#springwrites

[saccharinespring]

Over It (jack abbot x reader)

PAIRING: Jack Abbot x Reader WORD COUNT: 6.8k SUMMARY: Jack Abbot broke your heart without rhyme or reason. Now you're just trying to get over it, despite his constant attempts in not letting you. CW: ex!jack abbot/nurse!reader, some swearing, thoughts about killing men(jokes), very inaccurate medical procedure, happy ending, mohabbot mention (not actually), age gap implied but not stated so make it whatever you wish

ao3 link | masterlist

You were certain you must have done something truly evil in a past life to have the type of luck you had. Not only were you broken up with not even a full six months ago by a man you thought was the one, but you were also doomed to spend nearly every night with him due to your poor choice of job. 

You had become a night nurse at Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Centre over two years ago, sure you would have preferred a day shift but you were new in the city and low on funds, so you took what you could get. At first it was fine, you were in the ER department so it was rarely quiet, but the doctors were nice and the other nurses held your hand as you got used to the new system. You even managed to make a few friends, John Shen becoming your main coffee supplier by your third shift. You felt like, despite the ruined sleep schedule, that you had managed to make a place for yourself.

Then there was Doctor Jack Abbot, a man who could make anybody in the near vicinity weak in the knees with his casual flirting and pessimistic outlook hidden behind a boyish charm. He was strong and firm, always five steps ahead of everybody else, while handling not only the patients but the staff with care, and to top it all off - he was handsome. Salt and pepper curls and a smirk that made many of the drunk girls with twisted ankles blush, while his hands twisted their bare legs checking for pain. 

You wished you could say you were immune to his charms, that every sassy comment and flirty winks he sent your way did nothing to you… but it only took five months, one terrible shift and two drinks in a nearby bar before your lips were pressed to his and his hands were gripping your waist. 

It started off casual, a simple hook up whenever one of you needed company, but then came the sleepovers and the breakfasts in bed and constant checking for each other in every room you entered. By the third month you couldn’t hold it back and you forced the older man to have the conversation and that was it, he was yours and you were his. 

He told you about his time in the army, about how he lost not only his leg but his wife, bearing his heart open to you like he had never done before. You took it with grace, told him he could trust you, that you will keep it locked away in a safe and never dream of breaking it. You told him about your past, about the constant moving, how you never really felt like you had a place called home… or somebody who would stay. He reassured you he wasn’t going anywhere, that there was nothing you could do or say to make him run away. You believed him.

For ten months the two of you were happy. You had your arguments here and there but each of them ended with both of you apologising and long nights of making it up to each other. You found that Jack slept best with you and soon he was over in your small shoebox of a flat most days of the week, always telling you he preferred how homey your place felt compared to his. The two of you discussed moving in together, of a future you could share - maybe even adopt a dog or a cat or a ferret. You went out for dates and you made love and you were happy.

That was until six months ago, after a few weeks of Jack being distant, spending more and more time either at work or at his own house, he finally broke the news. It was a Tuesday, the two of you had just spent the last 18 hours dancing around each other in the ER, you constantly seeking him out as he ran away, by the time your shifts ended you had him cornered in the locker room.

You knew it before he said it, could see the way he looked at you as if he pitied you or wanted to take away your pain, even though he was the one inflicting it. 

There wasn’t a huge discussion, Jack made sure of that, it was simple and straight to the point, like you were a patient on his hospital bed and he was telling you bad news. He refused to show emotion, refused to explain why he came to this decision - instead telling you that he will return your things by next week. It was a ten month relationship that ended in a five minute talk, your coworkers just on the other side of the wall. It was clinical… surgical… it broke your heart.

You had managed to contain your tears until you returned home, breaking down before you had even unlocked your apartment door. You were sure that your next door neighbour could hear your wails and it was somewhat comforting knowing they didn’t care. You had contacted work after an hour of crying, informing them that you were taking your leave and that you would return in a month's time - claiming a family emergency needed your attention. They weren’t happy but after HR’s recent suggestion of preventing burn out they let you take the time you needed.

You allowed yourself to grieve that month, to cry as much as you want, gorge yourself on terrible takeout and ice cream. You watched romcoms that made you cry and dramatic movies that just made you angry. Jack had stayed true to his word and dropped a box of your things off by your door not even two days after he ended things - you had thrown his things in a garbage bag and left it by the front door before he arrived. He didn’t knock, didn’t try and let himself in - just simply texted you that he had left the box on your doormat. 

Despite your unwillingness you couldn’t avoid work forever, which is why a month later you returned to your regular scheduled shifts, avoiding Jack at all costs. There was no more sneaking a kiss in the down times, holding hands as you left in the morning, surprise coffees waiting for you at the nurses station. There was no love, no connection, just an overwhelming sense of loss.

The other around you had noticed, word spread pretty quickly about the golden couple of the night shift break up. Shen attempted to cheer you up by telling you the work gossip you had missed while away, Lena constantly took over when you and Jack were forced to work together and Ellis had attempted to set you up on the newest dating app. You would never admit it, keenly aware that your night shift pals didn’t need their egos stroked, but without them you weren’t sure you would have stayed.

By month three of the break up you swore you were over it, any feelings you had for Jack Abbot had shrivelled up and died, replaced with a new found anger and spite. It’s what spurred you on and forced you to continue to show up - there was no world where you were going to let a man ruin the home you made for yourself. You helped him with patients, never letting on the malice between the two of you, treating him as if he was any other coworker. 

That’s why you were swearing your luck now, that despite the fact it had been six months since your heart was ripped from your chest and shred into a million pieces, you had pulled yourself back up. Only for it all to crash down again.

Shen meant well, not meaning to upset you when he told you that there were rumours that Abbot and Mohan were getting cosy. You tried to play it cool when he mentioned, hiding your internal panic and heartbreak by a simple raised eyebrow. It killed you, the idea that Jack was so willing to move on, with another coworker no less, and you knew you should have let the comment rest there. Instead you pressed for more information.

Apparently the day shift staff made mention to Shen during the shift change that Abbot had come in early, only to spend most of his time with Mohan, and it wasn’t the first time this had happened. According to Shen’s sources (you were ninety percent sure it was from Jesse) Abbot had come in early every shift for the past week.

The rest of your shift was spent mulling over the idea of Mohan and Abbot. You held nothing against the girl, she was young, pretty, wickedly smart and one of the few doctors you had met that cared about their patients being listened to. You had only worked with her once or twice, when you covered for Jesse or Mateo. She was kind, and she respected you, so it didn’t surprise you that you couldn’t be mad at her for even a moment.

There was a part of you that considered that maybe the reason Jack had ended things was because he had already started something with Mohan… it took you an hour to decide that despite how badly he hurt you Jack would never do that. He wasn’t that cruel.

By the time your shift ended you had made up your mind, if Jack was seeing others, you should too. That’s how you ended up in the pediatric ward, talking to Doctor Hotty (a nickname used by the nurses that you were sure Princess had made up). He was a handsome man and he asked you out a few weeks ago after he was brought down to the ER to help with a young child. You had originally shut him down, letting him know you were just getting out of a relationship and wouldn’t want to put him through your mess. He respected your decision but told you to find him when you were ready to move on. The two of you scheduled a date for the upcoming weekend, both of you being lucky enough to have the Saturday night off.

Although you had originally intended to finish your shift by 8am that Saturday morning and try to get some sleep before your date, fate had other plans. If it was any other coworker you would have told them no, that you couldn’t swap shifts that day and to find someone else. Unfortunately you owed Jesse (thanks to your month long sabbatical he was sacrificed to the night shift to cover you) so when he messaged you the Friday morning begging to take his shift on Saturday you agreed. You texted Doctor Hotty afterwards, letting him know that you were still on for the date but he would need to pick you up from the hospital due to the schedule change.

You were slightly irritated that you now had to pack your date outfit into your back pack, along with your makeup up and heels, you hated changing for a date at work - always keenly aware of the eyes you got when you were dolled up. 

You arrived at the ER by 6am, date night outfit shoved into your locker, instead fitted out in your grey scrubs and comfy clogs. You were thankful that Jack must have had the night off or you missed the shift change by some miracle - you don’t think you would have been able to stomach his interactions with Mohan since hearing the news. 

The day shift was a nice change of pace, it was interesting to see the types of patients that would come in and you were grateful to be able to spend time with the new “Pittlings” as they were deemed. You found it to be a peaceful day, even managing to make Robby laugh once or twice when talking about a patient who had thought parkour was still trendy (the broken arm would beg to differ). You hadn’t even realised that it was your end of your shift until you noticed Jack walk through the doors, wearing a simple black shirt and khaki pants. 

You looked away before he caught you staring and informed Dana that you were going to get changed and head off. She gave you a small thank you, shooing you off while teasing you with the idea of switching to day shifts. You managed to sneak past Robby and Abbot before grabbing your bag from your lockers and moving straight to the changing rooms. 

You didn’t have a huge amount of time to make your transformation, instead you settled for a quick shower (hair staying up and dry) before pulling on your outfit and heels - only slightly rushing through your makeup. You allowed yourself once over in the mirror, despite the fact Doctor Hotty had texted you that he was out by the nurses station, you felt good. Your makeup was slightly messy but in a way that made you look sexy, and your outfit helped as well, accentuating all of your favourite features about you. 

You walked out into the ER with a pep in your step, despite how you usually despised the way people stared at you when you were in your regular clothes, this time it felt nice to be noticed. There may have even been a small part of you that hoped Jack noticed, and another part of you that hoped he didn’t. 

You spotted Doctor Hotty leaning against the nurses station, chatting politely to Princess as she gave him the eyes. You could only giggle to yourself as you stepped up beside him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Ready to go?” You ignored the shocked stares you were receiving from your coworkers, especially Shen’s who must have arrived not longer ago with his iced coffee still barely drunk in his hands.

“You’re going out with him?” Princess asked, not in any way to hurt your feelings, but just in shock - it was very well known within the ER how your last coworker relationship. Doctor Hotty however paid her no attention as he turned to face you, eyes trailing your body before locking into your eyes.

“You look beautiful” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, sure it was the most basic thing a man could say but you couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling. “Lets get out of here.” 

You simply nodded as your hand found his, allowing Doctor Hotty to lead you out of the ER. You spared a glance over your shoulder, mainly to poke your tongue out at the very jealous Princess. Instead you were met with a very sad looking Jack, eyes focused on your hand interconnected with Doctor Hotty. He had glanced at you briefly and you ignored the way your breath caught in your throat before you simply turned your head and continued to walk away. He had his chance. He had you. He couldn’t be sad about you moving on, not when he had Mohan.

“So yeah… the couples counseling didn’t work and here I am!” 

You hummed in response, spooning another forkful of pasta into your mouth and silently cursing whatever god put you in this situation. The date was terrible. Not only did Doctor Hotty order for you, but he had also spent the better part of the hour going into every detail of his failed marriage. You felt bad for him, but you also couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky his ex-wife is for not having to be here. He was painfully boring and clearly overcompensating every time he opened his mouth.

You were certain that you hadn’t spoken more than ten words since you sat down at the table, simply offering a simple smile and nod whenever there was a pause in conversation (could it be considered a conversation if you weren’t speaking?). You had already excused yourself to the bathroom three times just to get a breather - and to text Shen about how terrible the date was going… he was not as empathetic as you hoped, instead choosing to send a 2 minute voice recording of him and Ellis laughing at your pain.

You were going over all the ways you could get yourself out of continuing this date when you were both interrupted by your phone ringing. You gave Doctor Hotty a small apologetic smile before answering the phone and stepping out into the street to have some privacy, not bothering to check who was calling - just happy to have a break.

“So Doctor Hotty?” You felt your breath disappear as you recognised the voice over the phone, seemingly cheery.

“I don’t think it’s your concern.” Your voice is clipped, eyebrows already furrowed as you feel the anger rise. In what world does Jack Abbot have a say in who you are dating.

“I’m just looking out for my favourite nurse, I’ve heard rumours about that guy.” You could hear the amusement in Jack’s voice, like this was just some sort of banter between friends and not the love of your life taunting you for moving on.

“Well I’m sure they’re no worse than what people say about you.” You heard him let out a chuckle over the phone which only increased your rage. 

“And what are people saying about me sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see it before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Doctor Abbot, is there a reason that you are calling me after my shift?” You know that he would consider this a win, that you dodging his questions shows how he can still Affect your mood.

“Other than to check in on your horrible date? Yes,” you could hear the background noises of the ER through the phone, letting you know that Jack was back in the middle of it all. “Bridget needs to get home to the kids so I was wondering if you could come in to cover, I’ve had an inside source tell me that you needed an escape anyways.”

You were going to ruin Shen’s life.

“Well I am sure your inside source is wrong but for Bridget of course - I can be there in 20.” You didn’t give Jack a chance to respond before you were hanging up the phone and storming back inside the restaurant, picking up your bag and coat.

“I am so sorry but that was work and they need me to come in right away.”

“Oh of course - I’ll drive you over.” You offered Doctor Hotty a small smile and followed him out the restaurant (after he made a show of paying the bill and leaving a 25 percent tip) and back into his car. You were grateful that it was too far of a drive to the hospital as you really did not have it in you to make awkward small talk with the world's worst date.

By the time Doctor Hotty pulled up just outside the ambulance bay you were ready to sprint off, you didn’t offer him a chance to organise a second date or a goodbye kiss - just giving him one of those awkward over-the-console-hugs before rushing out of his car. You will most likely have to text him later telling him that he was nice but you just weren’t ready for a relationship (or more accurately ready for a relationship with him).

You snuck your way in through the ambulance bay doors, hoping that you could get changed into your scrubs before being spotted by anyone, well not just anyone… you didn’t think you would be able to control your tongue if you ran into Jack as you escaped your terrible date.

“Missed me already?” You felt your shoulders tense from where you were grabbing your scrubs out of your locker, thankfully it wasn’t the last person you wanted to see in the world - just the second.

“Shen, unless you want to see me bare ass I suggest you move along.” You gave the man a playful glare as you shut your locker with a bang.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time baby.” You gagged at his sleazy flirting (you knew he meant nothing by it - Shen was not that kind of guy… he just enjoyed pissing you off.)

“I’m going to give you five seconds to reflect over what you said and leave before I purple-nurple you… again.” You held up your fingers in a pinching motion, moving closer to his chest and he let out a gasp, hands covering his clothed nipples.

“You wouldn’t dare… remember what HR said last time?” He was teasing you, but deep down he knew that if it came to it you would inflict trauma to his nipples that even the ER couldn’t save him from. You didn’t respond, just raising an eyebrow and lunging towards him - pulling yourself back when he let out a small scream and ran from the locker room. 

If there was one thing you could count on it was John Shen cheering you up, even if it was to his own demise.

You had changed from your date night outfit back into your worn scrubs and prepped yourself for the long shift ahead of you. Usually when working a double you could find yourself an hour or so break to catch up on sleep, however thanks to your disastrous date you were now running on pasta and despair to get you through the next 12 hours.

You didn’t have a chance to catch Shen once you were back on the ER floor, everything seemingly busier than usual (and you were certain he was avoiding you). You moved from room to room making sure all your duties were done, it was like being a cog in a well oil machine. You found yourself enjoying the shift a bit more, maybe the lack of sleep was making you delirious or maybe it was due to the fact that it seemed like all the patients were actually happy to see you when you entered their rooms. You chalk that up to still having a face full of makeup done - was it frustrating that people tended to respect you more when you were done up? Yes. Were you going to enjoy the fact you hadn’t had one patient try and curse you out yet? Also yes.

And maybe it was because you were coming off a terrible date, but you didn’t mind it too much when you found Jack watching you through the ER. Serves him right for what he did you think to yourself - look as much as you want buddy but you’re never getting it.

When 3am rolled around you finally felt the exhaustion start to settle in your bones, your movements were slightly slower and your brain lagging behind just slightly when trying to calculate medications. You tried to push through - it was still annoyingly busy for the night shift and you knew that everybody needed to help out where they could - you just needed a small break and a good coffee and you would be back on your feet. At least that’s what you thought when you were making coffee in the break room, until you woke up to the feeling of your head smacking the kitchen cabinet, right on the pointed handle.

You let out a noise of pain as your hand rushed to your forehead - grateful that you didn’t smash your eye into the metal hardware. Pulling your hand back you saw bright red blood covering your fingers and you felt the tears pool up in your eyes, not from the pain (although it was stinging like a bitch) but from the frustration of the day. It wasn’t enough for the universe to set you up on a terrible date and then make you work a double with your ex who seemed to either ignore you or tease you relentlessly but now you had a head wound.

“Woah - you good there sweetheart?”

You felt your blood already start to boil as Jack’s voice rang out throughout the break room, his hands already reaching to pull your hand away from your forehead. You shrugged out of his grip, trying to move around him to find somebody else to patch you up.

“M’fine.” You mumble, not daring to look into his eyes. You did not want to deal with Jack’s teasing tone today - couldn’t stomach the thought of him trying to care for you.

“Doesn’t look fine to me, you need to sit down.” His hands were back on your shoulders, pushing you to sit down in a break room chair. You felt your resolve give in slightly as the blood continued to pour down over your eye - the frustration of your entire feeling like a cruel joke played by the universe.

“Jack seriously it’s fine, small accident you can go.” Your tone was harsh and you were too busy trying to keep the blood out of your eye - you were aware enough that it wasn’t a concern to be bleeding that much, knowing that a cut to the brow lends itself to an excessive amount of blood for a minor injury.

“I’m not going anywhere, not until you’re all patched up.” Jack moved from the breakroom to grab a suture kit as well as washing his hands before returning back to you. If you could see him you would roll your eyes at his level of precaution - knowing that he wouldn’t apply the same safety to himself.

“How’d this happen?” Jack asked as he pulled out the clean gauze, removing your hands and pressing it to your forehead, returning your hand over the pads to keep the pressure. You wanted to kill him, or yourself - at this point you didn’t care who just as long as one of you wasn't here.

“Must’ve nodded off or something, smacked my head into the kitchen cabinet.” You watched as he set up the suture kit on the breakroom table - grateful that he wasn’t forcing you into a bed and making you go through the whole process. Yes it was hospital policy but the last thing either of you wanted was to write an incident report over a minor head laceration.

“Nodded off? Are you sure you're good to work?” You hated the way that he said it, as if he was genuinely concerned for wellbeing. Jack Abbot didn’t care about you, not when he had another lover in his life.

“I’m fine.” You snapped, allowing Jack to remove the gauze to check the bleeding. “Just a long day.”  Jack only snorted a laugh in return, a small smirk creeping up on his face.

“So the date really was that bad.” You felt yourself glare at Jack before hissing as the movement from your brows pulled the cut further.

“Shut it Abbot. Not in the mood.” You mumbled, just wanting this whole night to be over with. Jack only raised his hands in surrender before slipping on a pair of gloves, hands moving to your forehead to check the damage. You were lucky that it wasn’t too deep, but it was long and slightly jagged and part of you knew deep down you would need a couple of stitches. 

“So are we doing this with or without the drugs?” Jack asked as he began to clean your wound, soaking the pad in the antiseptic liquid and dabbing it over the cut, hand holding your head stable as you winced and tried to pull back.

“No drugs - don’t want to have to deal with the inquisition.” Jack only laughed as he tossed the used pad into the tray, hands setting up the small needle.

“What a brave girl.” You felt your body tense at Jack’s words, hating the way that you felt a heat rush to your core over the small praise. You know he was teasing you but after almost a year of hearing those words whispered in your ears as he thrust inside you, you couldn’t help but react.

“Just get it done Doctor.” Rolling your eyes as Jack smiled at you once again, hands coming back to your forehead.

“So bossy - missed that about you.” 

You felt the wind be knocked from your chest at the words. What did he mean by that? Why on earth would he miss anything about you considering he was the one who broke your heart. You tried to ignore the sting of the needle and willed yourself to relax and Jack worked his magic.

“Don’t.” It was all you could say, you weren’t sure what you meant by it, truly, just aware that if he continued to say those things to you, you would only end up confused. You didn’t need that type of confusion, you were over him - so totally over him.

“Just complimenting my best nurse - am I not allowed to?” Jack wasn’t looking you in the eyes, instead focused on the stitches he was currently giving you. He knew that you didn’t truly care about scaring but he didn’t want to leave you completely deformed because he was too distracted looking in your eyes instead of your wound.

“Jack I’m serious,” tears were welling up in your eyes, not from the pain of the stitches but from the treatment. “You don’t get to say those things to me anymore.”

Jack knew you were right, that his selfishness led to him letting go of the very best thing he had since he lost his wife. He didn’t even truly know why he did it, part of him was sure that he was doing the right thing; letting you go to live your life without being tied down by his nightmares. The other part thought that maybe he did it because he was scared; scared to let you in completely and have you hate what was inside.

“What if I told you I made a mistake?” 

There was a long silence between you as Jack tied off the end of the stitches, cutting the end. You didn’t know how to respond, a mix of anger, confusion, hope and heartbreak swirling around your chest.

“I would tell you to save it for your therapist - are we done?” Without waiting for a response you stood up from the chair and stormed out of the breakroom. Your coffee and Jack both forgot and as speed walked to the bathroom - head down so nobody noticed the dried blood that remained on your face along with the stitches.

You allowed yourself five minutes in the bathroom to catch your breath and clean off your face. You couldn’t believe him - that he would choose that moment out of all the opportunities he had to finally talk to you. It was just like him - thinking only of himself with no regard to your well being. You ended your pity party by wiping away your tears, planting a smile on your face and exiting the bathroom as if nothing had happened - choosing to ignore the way Jack kept trying to get your attention for the rest of the shift.

The end of your shift arrived later than you would have liked and you felt bad as you barely acknowledged the day shift trickle in as you grabbed your stuff from your lockers and borderline ran away from the hospital. You were tired, had a slight headache and were emotionally spent over the brief moment you and Jack had that night - you needed a 12 hour sleep and 3 hour shower to even think of recovering from it all.

After the world's longest shower your prayers of sleeping the rest of your life went unanswered as you heard a loud knock at your door. You could feel the annoyance you managed to leave behind at the hospital creeping back in as you assumed it was a neighbour coming over to complain about your loud music (so you like performing concerts in the shower - it's not the end of the world Janice.)

Instead, however, of your elderly neighbour standing in your doorway it was Jack Abbot. Your Jack Abbot. The Jack Abbot that admitted not even 12 hours ago that he made a mistake. The Jack Abbot who broke your heart without warning and is apparently seeing Samira Mohan.

“What do you want?” You spat as you leant against the door frame - hoping Jack would get the message that you were in no mood for him to be around.

“We need to talk,” Jack held up a plastic bag in his hand, almost as a peace offering. “I brought you wonton soup considering your dinner was interrupted.” 

You felt your eyes turn into a glare as you glanced between the bag and his face, it wasn’t as cocky as it had been back at the hospital - now it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a stray puppy that had just been kicked to the curb… in the middle of a storm.

“Jack. You had your opportunity to talk to me six months ago when you broke my heart - remember that?” Your hands, despite your words, reached out for the plastic bag and ripped it out of his grip. “Thank you for the soup. Now go home or back to Mohan or whatever you do with your life now.”

You attempted to shut the door but your actions were stopped when Jack blocked it with his good foot - you only felt slightly guilty as he let out a groan as the door slammed into him - the feelings dissipating as he wormed his way in through the gap.

“What do you mean go back to Mohan?” You only scoffed in response - placing the bag on the ground so you could attempt to push Jack out of your home.

“You know what I mean - I’m a nurse Jack. We talk.” 

Jack only stared at you with confusion as his hands wrapped around your wrists, stopping your feeble attempts of getting rid of him.

“Well I’m sorry to say but whoever you have been talking to is making things up - there is nothing going on with me and Mohan.” You rolled your eyes, ripping your hands out of his grasp. You accepted that he wasn’t going to leave, not yet anyways, so you instead grabbed the takeaway bag and walked off to your kitchen.

“So you haven’t been arriving to work early just to spend time with her?” Jack was silent, answering your question without saying a word. “Yeah that’s what I thought.” 

You shook your head as you pulled the bowl out of the bag, rummaging through your cupboards and drawers for a bowel and spoon.

“It’s not like that,” Jack moved over to your kitchen island, arms coming to rest on the wooden countertop. “I get in early so I don’t run into you.” 

“Oh so you aren’t seeing another girl - you just don’t want to see me?” Jack could only gawk as you twist his words against him. 

“That’s not fair - I was trying to give you space.” Jack retorted.

“Well then why are you here now Jack? Sure doesn’t look like you’re giving me much space now.”

You watched as Jack only opened and closed his mouth; watched as cogs turned over in his brain.

“I’m here because you went on a date.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes again as you poured the soup into your bowl.

“Jack you broke up with me, you don’t get to come back into my life after six months of avoiding me all because I decided I deserved to move on.” 

“I know. I know I’m being selfish but seeing you leave with him… it killed me.” Jack pleaded with you, hands reaching out for yours, where they had been gripping the bench, you pulled back before he could touch you.

“And how do you think I felt?” You questioned. “What about the fact you killed me when you told me you didn’t want to see me anymore?”

You could feel the tears return to your eyes as they had done many times over the past few hours and you hated the way that he still had such a hold on you. That despite the fact you hadn’t been together in six months you still felt that pull - that urge to let him in; to let him comfort you and make you feel better.

“I’m sorry,” Jack tried to ignore the way you rolled your eyes again, pulling yourself away from him further - your arms wrapping around your body as if you were trying to sooth yourself. 

“I wasn’t thinking straight when I did that… all I could think about was how I was bringing you down - that you would’ve been better off without me pulling you under with me.” 

“Jack,” your voice had gone soft. “You never pulled me under, you were my light, the reason I found myself smiling again… you were my home.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, filling your home with a sadness that neither of you could escape from. You hated the way you felt your resolve begin to crumble, that all the work you had put in in getting over Jack was falling away with one simple conversation. You watched as tears fell from his eyes, his whole head staring down at the kitchen countertop, and it broke your heart.

“I can still be your home,” Jack was pleading now, moving around the kitchen island to meet you. “We can go back to that.”

Jack pulled your hands into his, desperately searching your face for any sign of agreement. You didn’t want to give it. Didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt, not when he could easily turn around once again and break your heart all over again.

“Jack, I don’t think I can - when you left me I had no idea why and you wouldn’t tell me. I don’t think I could go through that again if you ever decided that you didn’t want me.” 

Jack shook his head, small no’s leaving his mouth as he pulled you into his chest.

“No I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t ever leave you again I promise… my life has been miserable without you.” You didn’t struggle as Jack held you in his chest as tears rolled down both of your faces. “I made a mistake and I didn’t treat you right but I promise I will do whatever it takes to get you to forgive me - to trust me again.”

You didn’t want to give in; you didn’t want to admit the way his words made your heart beat again; admit that all you want is Jack Abbot, even with the pain. That a life with him was better than any other life you could have.

“We can’t go back to the way we were,” You pulled away from his hug, staring into his eyes. You watched as they seemed to fall, his arms going limp by his sides. “But… I’m willing to try something new.” 

Jack could only smile at you, tears still in his eyes as he searched your face for any sign that this was a joke - a cruel prank you were pulling on him for hurting you so bad. He didn’t find any.

Jack lent in, hands moving to hold your jaw to stabilize you as he went to kiss you but you placed your hands on your chest and pushed him back.

“Not yet… If you want me back in your life Jack you have to earn it. I’m not just going to let you kiss me and forgive you, I want the romance and the trust needs to be rebuilt.”

“Anything you want, just as long as you don’t date that dickhead again.” You felt a laugh bubble out of your chest, and despite the fact you were still hurt you couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of laughing with Jack again; as well as the feeling of his hands on your waist, as if your body was molded perfectly for him.

“I’ll make you trust me again, whatever it takes.” You smiled in response, unwrapping yourself from Jack’s grip before turning to your soup, forgotten in the bowl you had gotten out.

“You can start with letting me eat my dinner and sleeping in peace.” 

Jack only nodded, placing a small kiss on the top of your head before you walked him over to your front door. He knew that he still had a long way to go to earn back your forgiveness but he was willing to put in the work - to show you that he was an idiot and that there was nobody else for him but you.

a/n: AHH i hope y'all enjoy this fic!! I honestly struggle to write Abbot, I feel like he is equal parts flirty/pessimistic/cheeky that its hard to find the line while adding in heavy trauma. pls let me know your thoughts and feelings hehe i love reading what yall have to say!!

also all my medical knowledge comes from greys anatomy, scrubs, the pitt and my mum (shes a nurse) - also i remember being a kid and playing with the suture kits my mum would bring home so its definitely not accurate as that knowledge is twenty years too old

[springafterdark]

okay hear me out….. dad!kink with abbot….

(mdni - nsfw under the cut)

it wasnt something either of you were searching for - in fact you had laughed at the idea of a dating and older man and calling him daddy. it was such a cliche.

but with jack it was different. it wasn’t just about the age but it was in the way he would care for you. messaging you through out the day to check in - helping wash you in the shower and buying you your favourite perfume when you ran out. he even helped change your tire when you got a flat.

it felt natural that it was bound to slip out eventually - especially with the way he would always call you “kid” or “pumpkin”. it was embarrassing - the heat rushing to your cheeks as you mumbled out a tired “love you dad” as you snuggled into his body. you had felt jack tense underneath before he placed a kiss to your forehead and told he loved you back.

the next time it happened was over breakfast - jack pouring you your cup of juice as he prepared breakfast for the both of you - hand coming to rest on your back as he gave you a kiss to the top of your head - you couldnt stop the small “thank you dad” from escaping. the two of you didnt speak about it for the rest of the day…. not until later that night….

his mouth was latched onto your swollen clit, your hands tangled into his hair as you moaned out in pleasure - your slick and his spit making a wet patch on the bed - you could feel the brink of your orgasm creep in. moans more desperate as your legs began to shake as jack slid two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you out.

“such a pretty cunt, love the way it clenches over my fingers like she knows only her dad can please her right.”

there was no time for you to react, his words sending you over the edge as your orgasm crashed through your body. your legs wrapping tightly around his head as you let out a borderline scream in pleasure.

“f-fuck yes dad please you feel so good” you were barely mumbling as jack continued to finger you through your orgasm, the aftershocks making your pussy clench around him.

“such a good girl for her dad, letting me use you like this - what do you say?”

“thank you dad.”

[saccharinespring]

WHITE TRASH WEDDING

Part Two | Part Three

PAIRING: Dennis Whitaker x Reader WORD COUNT: 11.3k SUMMARY: You trapped him in a lie, the merciful thing to do is let him go. (You and Dennis marry young to save you from the punishments of a teen pregnancy. You believe you are doing the best thing for him when you leave.)

CW: teen pregnancy, wedding, heartbreak, angst, happy ending(?), reader has a child (not with Dennis)

read on ao3 | masterlist

Dennis Whitaker saved your life. This is a fact.

Growing up in a conservative family as the only daughter after four boys you were the baby, the angel, the girl who could do no wrong. Your mum loved dressing you up in the pink frills and your dad refused to let you lift a finger. You were spoiled with love, however conditional it was.  

Of course you had to play your part; no boys, no parties, good grades and church every Sunday. You were trapped in an ivory tower that you didn’t want and you found yourself throughout your teenage years testing the waters. Sneaking out at night to meet up with your friends, drinking in the back of trucks while stargazing, building bonfires and running when you saw the police lights coming. You weren’t the little girl your dad cried over when she took her first steps, or the beautiful debutante dressed in white. You were a rebel. A secret disgrace to your family.

Throughout it all you had Dennis. Dennis who picked you up when you were too drunk to get home, who helped you when you forgot your homework, who told you his desire to be a doctor and held your secret of wanting out of this life. Dennis was a light at the end of the tunnel, your best friend (maybe something more but you never crossed that bridge).

Dennis was the first person you told when you discovered you were pregnant. 

It was an accident, as it always is for any 17 year old, a fling with a guy who told you he loved you and while he didn’t listen when you tried to show him your truth, he did call you pretty and that’s all you needed back then. 

Dennis was the one to hold you as you cried, your life was ruined. You knew if your parents found out you would be kicked to the curb, a pariah in this small town you hated to call home. He stroked your hair as you panicked and squeezed you tight when you couldn’t hold yourself up. Dennis was a kind man, and it was that kindness that led you to a solution you never dreamed of.

“Marry me.”

It wasn’t a question or a declaration of love. It was a simple statement. You knew what he meant by it. It wasn’t uncommon in your town for people to marry young, there were more highschool sweethearts surrounding you than any cheesy romcom could hope for. You and Dennis were best friends, your parents had been planning your marriage since birth so it wouldn’t be surprising. It was an out. A way to guarantee that your parents wouldn’t abandon you.

All you could do was stare in his eyes as you processed what he had said and then you said okay. There was no big kiss, no fireworks, no ring. Just two young kids who were trying their best to look after each other. 

When you told your parents they were over the moon, they couldn’t believe that you had finally come to your senses. You didn’t mention the baby bump and they didn’t question the fact you were still in high school. All they cared about was you finding a good man to look after you. 

The wedding came quickly. Dennis couldn’t afford a ring so he had to use his Grandma’s wedding ring, it was too big and not really your style. You wore your mother’s wedding dress, the pristine white lace and fluff covering the small bump that was beginning to show. There was a level of irony with it that you knew Dennis would appreciate.

You moved in with Dennis, a small barn on his farm that he had made up for the two of you. You had shared beds before, study sessions that turned into sleepovers were an often occurrence for the both of you. You played the part of a good wife (despite the fact you were a terrible cook and were messier than Dennis most days) and when the news broke that you were pregnant nobody was surprised. Congratulations were given to you and Dennis and you felt the guilt begin to creep in.

You didn’t mean to trap him with a kid, one that wasn’t even his. You thought about his dream of becoming a doctor, wanting to help people. You had taken that away from him. Sure it was his idea, but it was you who had said yes.

Your girl was born in the middle of spring, just after Dennis had graduated. You had dropped out of school once the news broke, so you tried to smile through the pain of watching Dennis walk across the stage you were meant to walk across. He had held your hand through the birth and cried with you when she was finally in your arms. You were thankful he was there but you couldn’t stop the feeling that this was just another way you destroyed his life. 

You named her Phoebe. If anyone asked you would say that you chose it because it meant bright and pure. You had only told Dennis that she was named Phoebe because of Charmed.

Dennis went to the local community college as you looked after your girl. You tried your best to ease the stress of a new born for him but despite it all he helped you. He would force you to sleep as he woke up in the middle of the night to feed her, playing with her while you had your first shower in weeks. He was your rock, and you were his anchor. Dragging his future down with every day you stayed together.

You don’t know when you decided to leave, but once the thought entered your brain you couldn’t escape. If you left you would give Dennis his freedom, he could move across the state like he originally planned and become the greatest doctor in the world. No teenage mother holding him back. 

You found your opportunity when Dennis had to leave for two nights for a family wedding in the next town over. You told him you couldn’t come as Phoebe had a slight cold and he tried to argue that he should stay as well, but you had convinced him to go. To take a break from the world you dragged him into. 

The moment he left you packed your bags. You didn’t have that much money, being a full time mother at 18 does that to a girl, but you scrounged what you could. You had enough to get you a couple nights in a motel out of state and you would figure it out from there. You strapped Phoebe in the car, bags piled into the trunk and you took off. You left a note, something simple to explain your absence. You didn’t want to hold him back from the greatness he was going to achieve. You thanked him for his kindness and then, with assurance you would never see him again you told him you loved him. Not the best friend type of love but the soulmate level type of love.

It had snuck up on you, and you would be lying if it didn’t play a part in your escape plan. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone the way you loved Dennis, and that’s why you knew you had to set him free. It was selfish. You had borderline tricked the poor boy into marrying you and raising a kid that wasn’t his, you couldn’t force him to stay with you and play house just because you had fallen in love.

The first few months were a struggle. It was like Phoebe could sense that somebody was missing, despite the fact she was only 6 months old, and no matter how hard you tried you could never get her to properly rest. You had driven far from Nebraska, making your way to the east coast. You had an aunt out that way, somewhere in Boston. You hadn’t heard from her since you were a child, your mother having cut contact with her when it was discovered her long term roommate wasn’t just a roommate.

You didn’t call ahead, just appeared on her doorstep, baby on hip and fear in your eyes. You were lucky that she had taken you in without a second thought. She made space for you and Phoebe in the spare room and let you explain to her why you were here. The marriage of convenience, the guilt of trapping the man you loved with a child he didn’t want and the fear of being stuck in the same role every other woman around had been forced into.

Your aunt never told your mother you had arrived, things between them were ruined beyond repair and you couldn’t deal with the disappointment your mother would throw in your face when she found out the truth. Dennis had tried calling you multiple times and eventually you disconnected your phone and got yourself a new number. You knew it would hurt him but you also knew it would save him in the long run.

The years went by and slowly you built up new foundations. Your aunt’s girlfriend was a social worker and helped you get your GED and return to college while your aunt helped care for Phoebe. You found yourself with a passion to help people like yourself, young mothers left without any care and soon you were a part time social worker. Your aunt’s girlfriend was kind enough to get you a job in her company.

You found a new sense of peace, you still missed Dennis and you refused to date anyone. Life was too busy between school, work and raising Phoebe. You wanted to be present in her life despite it all, wanted to give her the unconditional love you never received.

You were 23 when your aunt got sick. Phoebe had just celebrated her fourth birthday and the three of you had surrounded the young girl, singing happy birthday as the candle melted wax into the chocolate cake. The next morning you found your aunt unconscious on the kitchen tiles and before you knew it there were flashing red and blue lights outside your small home and your aunt was taken to the hospital.

Stage Four Breast Cancer. 

That’s all you can truly remember, the months of sickness blurring together. Your aunt’s girlfriend had quit her job to care for your aunt full time and you picked up double shifts to pay for the treatment. Phoebe spent most of her days in day care and when the nights came you held her close to your chest as she slept. For the first time in years you prayed. Prayed for your aunt to get better, for Phoebe to be safe, for your peace to return.

After almost a year of treatments your aunt passed away. Stuck in an emergency room, your aunt’s limp hand resting in her girlfriends as Phoebe sat on your lap. She didn’t understand. She didn’t know the woman who helped raise her wasn’t going to come home. You held her tight while you tried not to cry. 

The next day you celebrated Phoebe’s fifth birthday. It wasn’t a big celebration, just you and Phoebe. You had taken her to the nearby park, giving your aunt’s girlfriend the space to grieve in their shared home. You bought a small cake from the bakery on the corner of the street and sang happy birthday under a bright sky. It felt silly for the sun to be shining when your world was being torn apart. 

Your aunt had left you and Phoebe more money than you knew what to do with and the house to her girlfriend. You knew she had been well off but it wasn’t until the money hit your bank account did you truly understand. Your aunt’s girlfriend had sat down with you, told you she was going to sell the house and move back to Pittsburgh, where her family was.

She gave you options, you could buy the house under market value and continue living in Boston or you could come to Pittsburgh with her. Just because you weren’t related by blood didn’t mean you weren’t her family and she wanted to help you. It wasn’t a hard choice, you had already begun to feel haunted in the house and you needed a new beginning.

By Phoebe’s sixth birthday the two of you lived in a spacious apartment, next door to your aunt’s girlfriend who babysat as you began working full time. You would pick Phoebe up from school when you finished early and listen to her talk about the new friends she had made and how she read a whole book by herself. Despite the fact she wasn’t biologically his you couldn’t help but believe she got her intelligence from Dennis.

It wasn’t easy but with time you made Pittsburgh your new home. You made friends with other mothers from Phoebe’s school, you had a regular cafe that knew your coffee order by heart and despite the fact you were grieving your aunt (and still grieving the memory of Dennis) you found a new happiness. Your aunt’s girlfriend introduced you to her family and soon you found yourself going to family dinners every week, her brother became your brother, her mother was your mother. There were no expectations from you, just the love and care you had been craving since you were a young teenager. You couldn’t have been more grateful for the life you had.

The nights were harder, the regrets from your younger years filling your brain as Phoebe slept in her own bed, no longer could you hold your girl tight to fall asleep. You were alone. You thought about dating again during those times but every time you downloaded the apps you froze. You didn’t want to date just anybody. You wanted Dennis.

You wondered what he was doing with his life more often than not, constantly reminded of him every time a client called you by your last name. You thought about changing it from Whitaker when you had left originally but selfishly you wanted to keep a part of him. Something that ties you and him together. You had hoped he became a doctor and hoped he got out of Broken Bow. 

You didn’t expect to see him again. Especially not in the Emergency Department of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre.

It was just past 9am when you had gotten the call from Phoebe’s school. She had an accident, fell off the monkey bars and landed on her arm. The ambulance had already taken her to the ER and before the phone call had even finished you told your boss you needed to go and you were out the door. It took you five minutes to get to the ER and it took you another two minutes to reach Phoebe’s side.

You noticed the dried tears on her face and her arm cradle to her chest as she lay on the hospital bed. There was a nurse in the room, older than you with dark hair braided to the back of her head. She introduced herself as Princess and told you that a doctor would be in soon to discuss Phoebe’s condition. She leant down to Phoebe and told Phoebe how brave she was before leaving the room, patting your shoulder as she left, as if she knew you needed a grounded force to keep you from panicking.

You held Phoebe’s good hand and asked her to explain what happened, and despite what you are sure is a broken wrist she tells you how she tried to do a flip from the monkey bars.

“Phoebe, my beautiful girl, why would you try and flip off the monkey bars?” You held back your initial anger, or more accurately your anxiety, not wanting to stress your poor girl any further.

“Derek told me I couldn’t. He said girls are scaredy cats.” She spoke in an almost whisper and a part of you had to hold back the laugh building in your throat. Of course. Of course your brilliant girl was trying to prove a point. She had more gusto than you ever had at her age.

“Well, I am proud of you for standing up for women’s rights but putting yourself in danger isn’t the way to do it.” You tried your best to scold her, but part of you was proud. She was strong.

“I’m sorry.” You could see the tears pick back in her eyes, and you pulled yourself closer to her, hand petting her head, you tried to ignore the fact this was the exact move Dennis would do to calm you down as well.

“It’s okay Pheebs, we all do silly things sometimes. I just want you to be safe.” You brushed the tears from her wet cheeks. “Next time Derek says something like that I want you to tell a teacher okay, no more trying to be the next Spiderman.” 

Phoebe let out a small giggle at the mention of her favourite superhero and snuggled herself closer to you. Her hand began to play with the chain around your neck, a trait she had picked up as a kid. 

The curtain to Phoebe’s room slid open and a man came through, tablet in hand. He was tall with dark hair and a scruffy beard. He was older, at least 20 years your senior and before he had spoken he had shut the curtain again. Not before you got a glimpse of the ER floor, and the gaggle of nurses and doctors all looking your way. 

“Hi there, you must Mrs. Whitaker?” The doctor questioned and you nodded as he pulled a stool over to sit on the other side of Phoebe. 

“I’m Doctor Robby, this is your daughter Phoebe?” You nodded once again, sitting up straighter, still not letting go of Phoebe.

“Yes, hi, thank you.” The words rushed out as you looked down at Phoebe, she had pulled from your grasp slightly, never one to shy away from a new person. She was brave like that. You gave her a slight nudge, a small indication for her to say hello as well.

“Hi Doctor Robby.” Phoebe offered a small wave to the man and he smiled back.

“Now Phoebe, I heard you got into an accident at school correct?” Phoebe nodded, a proud smile coming back to her face.

“Yeah, I was showing Derek that girls are better than boys.” Doctor Robby let out a laugh and a small shake of his head at the young girl's words and you couldn’t help but smile with pride as well.

“Well I am sure you proved your point, do you mind if I have a look at that arm though?” Doctor Robby was careful in his movements once Phoebe had nodded in approval. Her arm was swollen and already turning a dark shade of purple and green. You saw her flinch as he twisted her wrist slightly before returning her arm back to her chest.

“Do you feel any pain in that arm Phoebe?”

Phoebe nodded her head before she answered the question. You were glad you had raised her well enough that she was able to speak up for herself, and that Doctor Robby was treating her like a real person, and wasn’t just speaking to you.

“When I move my hand it feels bad.” Doctor Robby nodded at her words before he stood up.

“That’s not good but don’t worry we can make it better.” You felt Phoebe relax at the thought of the pain easing up. “We just need to take some photos of your arm to find out where the pain is coming from.” “Photo’s? How can a photo know where pain is?” Phoebe questioned, directing it more to you than to Doctor Robby. You smiled down at your girl.

“It’s a special photo machine.” You began to explain. “It looks inside and shows where the pain is inside your arm.” Doctor Robby nodded as he began to tap away on the tablet.

“Exactly, we use what is called an X-Ray machine and it can see through your skin and into your bones.” You saw Phoebe’s eyes open wide with that idea, you could tell her liked it better than your explanation. “If there is a break in the bone it causes pain, like what you are experiencing.” 

“Like Superman eyes?” Phoebe asked and both you and Doctor Robby let out a laugh. 

“Exactly like Superman eyes, now you sit here with your momma and one of my friends will come get you for the X-ray.”

Doctor Robby gave a small nod before opening the curtain again, the eyes of the doctors and nurses still looking towards you, before leaving and shutting the curtain behind you.

Robby gave a look towards the central station, where his team were congregating.

“Don’t you all have jobs to do?” 

Suddenly the group scattered, mumbling under their breaths to each other. There were two questions floating around the floor. Who were you? And why did you have the same last name as Dennis?

Robby walked over to Dana, handing her the tablet where the x-ray order was put through. The blonde nurse simply gave him a small look, one that asked the questions everyone was thinking.

“It’s a coincidence I’m sure.” Robby spoke, arms resting on the nurses station.

“I didn’t ask.” Dana replies, knowing that she didn’t need to for the question to be there.

“If there was any relation I am sure Dennis would have told us.” Robby replies. His mind couldn’t help but wonder though. Phoebe didn’t look like Dennis, in fact she looked like a carbon copy of you. You weren’t wearing a ring either, but didn’t correct him when he had called you Mrs Whitaker. Plus Phoebe was 8 meaning Dennis would have had to have her when he was seventeen, there’s no way he would have completed medical school with an infant.

As if sensing people were talking about him Dennis appeared in the ER, coming back from upstairs where he was helping and patient to the OR. He noticed the stares immediately, the way Princess and Perlah were whispering in tagalog under their breath as they stared at him. It took less than 30 seconds before Trinity Santos appeared next to him, eyes ablaze.

“Do you have a kid?” The question was direct, something to be expected from Santos. The two of them had been living together for 6 months now and she was one of the only friends Dennis had in this new town. He couldn’t help but be stunned nonetheless.

“W-what?” He barely stuttered out as he continued to the central station. His mind drifted briefly to the young girl he held in his arms hours after she was born and your sweaty face wrecked with tears. He didn’t dwell on the thought long, he learnt over the years that dwelling was only breaking his heart.

“I mean it would be insane if you did, even more insane if you did and didn’t tell me about it. Honestly I didn’t expect you to be the dead beat dad type.” Santos continued talking as the two reached the nurses station, where Robby and Dana were watching the two young doctors.

“I’m not a dead beat dad.” Dennis spoke, rushing over his words in defense of himself. He wasn’t the one who left Phoebe. You were the one who left him.

“So you do have a kid?” Santos questioned, grabbing a tablet from the desk to check on a new patient.

“Where would you even get an idea like that?” Dennis asked, disbelief was evident in the tone. His eyes were already scanning over the board looking for the next patient. It was only then when he stopped.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he re-read the words over and over again. Phoebe Whitaker. It was no mistake. Surely it was his Phoebe.

“There’s a young girl with a broken arm, last name Whitaker.” Santos replied, looking up from the tablet only to notice Dennis’ gobsmacked look. She paused as she took in Dennis, the way his hands were slightly shaking and his breathing getting heavier.

“Dude are you alright?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and as if it was made of fire he shrugged it off before running over to where you were sitting with your daughter. Completely unaware of the reunion about to occur. Santos simply shared a glance with Robby and Dana before following Dennis.

The curtain opened with more force than you would think necessary and you looked up from where you sat with Phoebe, discussing which Superhero would be the best doctor, eyes catching blue one. Familiar. Eyes that made you feel 17 again.

There was silence as you took each other in, both too shocked to speak. 

Before you even had a chance to say a word a figure appeared behind Dennis. She looked around your age, maybe slightly older and she wore the same scrubs as Dennis. Her hands came to rest on his shoulder and didn’t even take you in before she started talking.

“Yo’ Huckleberry what’s going…” Her words trailed off as she took in the scene in front of her. The way your eyes were wide, almost as if you were afraid and the way Dennis was just staring back, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Maybe I should come back at a better time.” She was gone before she had even finished speaking, the curtain still wide open for the whole floor to witness whatever was happening here.

“Are you Doctor Robby’s friend?” Phoebe spoke, completely unaware of who was standing in front of her. Unaware of your heart beating in your chest like it was going to burst. Unaware of the complete breakdown Dennis was on the verge of. 

As if her voice was some sort of alarm waking Dennis out of a deep sleep, he closed his mouth and finally tore his eyes away from yours. He couldn’t ask right now, not when the girl he claimed as his daughter was staring at him. He felt the anger, the anxiety, the sadness and the small part of joy that you were here swim around his head. He couldn’t. He had to be professional.

“I am, I’m Doctor Whitaker.” Phoebe’s eyes widened with glee, it was the first time she had ever met someone with her last name.

“That’s my name too!” She exclaimed, staring up at you, as if this was the most amazing discovery to ever exist. You gave a small smile back, not quite reaching your eyes and you tried to wrap your brain around what was in front of you. Dennis. Your Dennis.

“Oh really? That’s so cool!” Dennis spoke, you could hear the nerve in his voice and you watched as he took her in. She was grown now, the last time he had seen her she was still bald and drooling. Her eyes were the same, much like yours though they held a shine that you lost years ago.

“Yeah Mumma, isn't it cool?” Phoebe asked, her head turning towards you and you swallowed, trying to find any words to say. They alluded to you, leaving you to nod once again, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. You avoided Dennis’ gaze as he looked towards you again. 

That familiar feeling of guilt creeped back in, the same guilt that made you leave. The guilt that made you change your number and cut off all ties to home. The guilt that has been haunting you ever since you were seventeen years old and married your best friend.

“Are you taking me for my X-ray?” Phoebe asked and Dennis stuttered. He didn’t even realise the way Phoebe was cradling her arm to her chest. Despite his better judgement he felt that protective flair that he first felt eight years ago rear its head again. The feeling of needing to save the young girl.

Before Dennis had a chance to answer, Doctor Robby returned. He cleared his throat, as if trying to break the tension and behind him stood Princess, tablet in hand.

“Unfortunately Doctor Whitaker has to help another friend of mine, but Princess here is going to take you and your mumma instead.” You thanked whatever God existed that you didn’t have to interact with Dennis any further, and cursed them at the same time for cutting your reunion short.

You wished you could pull him into your arms and apologise for everything you did. You wished you could kiss him silly and share everything that had happened since you left. You wished you could run away and pretend that none of this had ever happened.

“Yes, sorry but I promise to come back, you can tell me more about where you got your last name from.” You felt your throat close up at the idea of Dennis returning, of speaking to Phoebe like they were best friends. Dennis left the room, Doctor Robby following close behind as Princess walked over and helped direct you and Phoebe towards the X-ray room.

The X-ray itself was quick and before you knew it, you were sitting back on the hospital bed as Phoebe complained about being hungry. Princess shooed you off as you asked if she could watch Phoebe while you went to get a vending machine snack and you felt grateful for the slight respite.

Standing in front of the vending machine you let yourself feel the panic you were desperately trying to conceal. Dennis was here. Dennis saw you. Dennis saw Phoebe. Dennis knew you were here. You stared blankly at the row of chips, the five dollar bill crumpled in your hands. The ER around you kept moving fast but you could still feel people slow and stare at you, you knew they were questioning what the hell was going on between you and Dennis.

You shook your head before inserting the money and punching the keypad before a packet of cheetos fell to the bottom of the vending machine. You bent down to pick the packet up and when you stood back up you noticed him. He stood next to you and despite the closeness you used to share you noticed the distance he put between you. You couldn’t run from this.

“Dennis.” You acknowledged. There was no reply, just a blank stare, as if he was trying to read you.

“What are you doing here?” There wasn’t malice behind his question, but there wasn’t any kindness either. Just confusion, and maybe some hurt but you ignored that.

“I live here.” You wanted to tell him the whole story. The guilt you feel for trapping him and ruining his life. The months you spent stressed over a newborn living in Boston and meeting your aunt and her death and the new family you found. But you couldn’t. Couldn’t explain to him why you left.

“Since when?” Dennis took a step closer. Not enough to close the gap between you but as a sign of peace you assume. You felt your heart break as you realised that he was still the kind and caring guy you left. The same guy who saved you from ruin at seventeen. The same guy who was ready to raise a family with you and give up all of his dreams.

“A year or so.” There was a pause as neither of you spoke. “I should get back to Phoebe.” 

And like that you ran off, darting around the boy you loved and back to your beautiful girl. The one thing in this world you had no regrets about. You didn’t look back. Didn’t see the way Dennis reached out for you before being called to help with another trauma. The way his eyes held eight years of hurt and confusion.

The X-ray came back an hour later. An hour of you noticing Dennis everywhere you looked. It confirmed Phoebe had a small fracture on her wrist. The doctor who called Dennis “Huckleberry” helped wrap Phoebe’s cast. She introduced herself as Doctor Trinity Santos and you noticed the way she examined you and Phoebe, trying to understand the connection you had to Dennis.

“So… Do you know Doctor Whitaker?” Doctor Santos asked as she placed a pink trip on plaster around Phoebe’s arm. Thankfully Phoebe was unaware of the question as she talked to Princess about why pink is the best colour in the world. You chewed on the question, unsure how to answer. These were Dennis’ coworkers. You had no place divulging his history to them. Clearly he hadn’t for a reason.

“We uh… we went to the same highschool… back in Broken Bow.” You felt the words tug at your throat. It felt silly. To reduce the connection you had to simple high school acquaintances. 

“Were you like cousins or something?” Trinity glanced up at you, and it felt like a punch in the gut. “Just because of the same last name.” 

“No uh… not cousins.” Your tone reflected that you would really rather be done with this conversation and thankfully Trinity had just finished up wrapping Phoebe’s cast.

“All done superstar.” Trinity smiled at Phoebe and she looked towards her cast, moving it around you could see a smile stretch across her face.

“This is so cool!” Trinity chuckled at your girl's excitement and stood up from the stool she was seated on.

“Now remember, you can’t get it wet for six weeks otherwise its powers won’t work.” Trinity warned and Phoebe nodded. Deadly serious. You had managed to convince Phoebe earlier that the cast would give her super strength in order to get her to agree to have it put on.

“No water.” Phoebe repeated, before snuggling back into your side. The two of you had been at the ER for a few hours now and it was well past lunch. You heard her stomach grumble at the lack of substantial food and you smiled down at her.

“Should we get some food… maybe pancakes?” Phoebe’s eyes lit up as she sat up, her head nodding in excitement.

“Pancakes!” She shouted and you laughed. There were moments like this when you felt the envy creep in. You knew it was silly to be envious of a child but you couldn't help but miss having that sense of childlike excitement. You were always brought back to the memory of your mother scolding you, telling you little girls need to be polite and quiet. You never wanted Phoebe to be dimmed like that.

“Lucky girl.” Trinity commented, a small smile on her face as she looked between the two of you. She could tell how much love you had for her, and how much love Phoebe gave back. She knew what it was like to grow up in a family who didn’t share that.

“I think I’m the lucky one.” You reply, placing a hand on Phoebe’s head before messing up her hair. She let out a noise of annoyance before swatting your hands away. Now that her arm was fixed and the promise of pancakes were made, her need for you shrunk. You could tell she was slowly getting closer to the age where it wasn’t cool for your mum to be your best friend, and you dreaded it.

“This has all the after care instructions you need, and you can come back in six weeks and we will remove the cast for her.” Trinity said as the Princess handed you a packet of papers. You nodded as you slipped off the hospital bed before giving a hand to Phoebe.

“Thank you, for everything. She was in amazing care.” You place a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder as you get ready to leave.

“Thank you Doctor Santos.” Phoebe says, eyes bright. “And thank you Nurse Princess.” You smiled as your kid spoke. It was hard to be proud of her at every moment, you knew you were raising her right despite all your mistakes.

“Our pleasure.” Doctor Santos replied before leaving, Princess trailing behind her. You noticed the two of them glance back at you as they walked towards the nurses station, muttering under their breaths.

“Mum, what about Doctor Whitaker - he said he would come back?” Phoebe questioned as you packed up your bags and moved her towards the exit.

“He’s probably busy, Pheebs, I am sure we will see him when we come back.” You hurried through the ER. You really didn’t want to run into Dennis, and you were only slightly hoping that he would have the day off in six weeks. You heard Phoebe protest slightly at leaving without saying goodbye to everybody but continued to push her through the exit and reminded her of the pancakes that were awaiting her.

You gave one look back towards the ER and it was easy to spot him. He stood near the room you were just in, eyes scanning around for you. It hurt to disappear on him again but you couldn’t put yourself through it. Not when Phoebe was with you. You turned your gaze away before you were caught and hurried off. 

Dennis looked around the room he swore you were just in, the bed still crumpled from where you sat on it. He let out a frustrated sigh as he realised you had left before he got a chance to speak to you. Properly speak to you, to ask you every question he had been asking the void since you left.

He couldn’t believe it. You were here, in Pittsburgh, with Phoebe and you still went by Mrs Whitaker. You looked older, not in a bad way, just older, dressed in a business casual outfit that let him know you were working now. He had dreamed about seeing you again, about finding your address and showing up at your door. He would forgive you for leaving after you apologise for leaving and he would ask you why you didn’t stay before telling you he didn’t need the answer. 

He would tell you he loved you too, long before you knew you loved him. That he loved you since you were kids and your parents joked about the two of you getting married. That he loved you even when he could see you slipping into the deep end with every bottle of alcohol you drank and exam you missed. He loved you through your best and your worst and he continued to love you, even when you broke his heart.

He would tell you that it didn’t matter to him that Phoebe was biologically his, he loved her as if she was. He wanted to be there through all her firsts, sing happy to her and take her on Daddy Daughter Dates. He wanted to buy the two of you valentines day gifts and shower you both with love that you deserved. He wanted that life with you, he didn’t care if he never ended up a doctor if it meant you were with him.

Eight years of ruminating, anger and hurt. Eight years of replaying everything in his head, trying to find where he went wrong, where he pushed you away. Eight years of constantly trying to check up on you, searching your name in every search engine and social media site, messaging old high school friends and your family. Eight years of loving you despite it all.

By the time his shift came to an end everybody was walking on eggshells when he came into a room. He didn’t tell anyone anything, not even sure how he would explain what that was, but they all knew. They knew the two of you were more than high school acquaintances and that the little girl you held in your arms was important to Dennis. It was this knowledge that led Trinity dragging Dennis to the local bar once they had clocked out and buying him a drink far stronger than his usual order.

“So…” Trinity’s unsaid question lingered in the air. There were other doctors and nurses at the bar, being the closest one to the hospital it made sense. The two of them were sitting in a booth, far away from keen ears.

Dennis could only shrug as he skulled the drink, it burned his throat in a way that he would usually hate but now gave him a sick sort of pleasure. Silence creeped over the two unlikely friends, as Trinity waited for Dennis to crack. She didn’t want to push him too far but she needed to know what the hell was happening with her friend.

“She said you were high school acquaintances." Dennis couldn’t help but scoff, hurt by the indifference you seemed to feel. As if what the two of you shared were just a fleeting phase for you.

“We were married… or are married? I don’t know at this point.”

Trinity choked on her drink at Dennis’ revelation and couldn’t help but slap her friend's arm, watching him pull back a whine on his lips.

“What the fuck was that for?” Dennis said, rubbing his arm. It didn’t hurt bad but the shock was enough to wake him from the sleep he had been in since you left the hospital.

“You’re married and you never thought to tell me? YOUR BEST FRIEND?” Trinity couldn’t help but shout as she slapped Dennis’ arm once again, ignoring the way he pushed her away.

“It’s not that simple okay, it wasn’t like that.” Dennis picked up his empty glass and watched the ice melt before motioning to the waitress passing by to get him another one.

“I mean to me it screams white trash wedding, knocked up young and married quick.” Trinity spoke, taking a casual sip from her own drink. To anybody else the words would seem harsh but Dennis knew her better by now, she was concerned for him. Dennis shrugged as he tried to find the words.

“Kind of - I mean yes and no. She was pregnant and we did get married young but we weren’t together.” Trinity didn’t speak as Dennis’ second drink was slid in front of him, she was honestly a bit confused by his words. What on earth did he mean they weren’t together - he was the father of that child.

“She was my best friend ever since we were young… When we were seventeen she was struggling I guess, going out every night, drinking with strangers. I was always there for her though, picked up her late at night, snuck her into my house so her parents wouldn’t know.” Dennis paused. He hadn’t told anybody about the two of you, sure his family knew you were married and then you left but nobody knew the truth.

“Anyways she was seeing this guy I guess and he got her pregnant before leaving town.” Dennis chose to ignore the way Trinity was looking at him, like she pitied him. “She came to me before anybody else, crying her eyes out. I had never seen her like that. I knew her family were strict, the kind of parents to plan a future for her before she had been born. I knew they would kick her out, she knew it too.”

Trinity felt her heart snap in two as she watched Dennis explain your history, she could feel herself pity the younger version of you but couldn’t understand how you ended up here. How the two of you parted.

“So I did what any boy who was in love with his best friend would do, I proposed.” Trinity let out a scoff at Dennis’ words, she knew Dennis so she wasn’t truly surprised at his actions, but she couldn’t help but judge. He was seventeen and stupid.

“Yes, obviously the only logical answer.” Trinity butted in, sarcasm rolling off her tongue. Dennis could only huff out a small laugh, he had enough space and time to be aware of how dumb he was back then.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Dennis defended, pushing Trinity slightly. She just rolled his eyes and gave him a stare for him to continue.

“Well she said yes and within a few months we were married, living in a barn on my family’s farm. She dropped out of school once she couldn’t hide the pregnancy anymore. I graduated before going to a local community college.” Trinity raised her eyebrows with this information, she knew she shouldn’t be that shocked that there were still towns where it was normal for women to give up their education for children, however she couldn’t help but feel anger raise in her. Why did you have to give up your life while Dennis continued to get an education?

“So she has to stay on a farm, with a family that wasn’t hers, a husband that wasn’t really a husband and raise a kid she had on accident?”

Dennis paused at Trinity’s words, the drink he raised to his lips placed back on the sticky tabletop. He had enough time to think about why you left, he knew you always wanted more than that life, he had already thought the words Trinity spoke more times than he could count.

“Basically.”

There was a lull in the conversation, as the two friends took in the information that was shared. Trinity wanted to help Dennis, give him words of affirmation to help him through this funk but for the first time she was speechless. She didn’t know what to say to fix the hurt he was clearly going through.

“So she left you?” Trinity questioned, breaking the silence.

“I was a couple towns away for a family wedding, I was going to stay with her and Phoebe but she forced me to go, to take a break. By the time I returned she had packed up and left, took Phoebe and my car and left a letter.” Dennis slammed the second drink before pulling out his wallet. It was stupid that he still had it. That he still carried out the last piece of you he ever had before you left him. To hold onto the first, and last, time you ever told him you loved him. He handed the weathered page to Trinity, and she paused before opening the folded paper.

Trinity scanned the words written on the page, your hand writing was messy but had the same flourish as it did on the forms you completed in the hospital earlier. She read over your thank you and how you didn’t want to hold Dennis back. She read your declaration of love and she felt her heart drop, imagining a young Huckleberry reading this letter after returning from somebody else's happy ever after.

“Fuck.”

It was the only word Trinity could find to describe the situation and Dennis just nodded.

“Fuck.”

The two sat in silence for a while longer, the letter being folded back and slipped into Dennis’ wallet again. They had finished their drinks before paying their tab and leaving together. There were no words spoken, nor further explanation. Trinity understood. She understood that Dennis loved you, and you loved him. That you were two kids in a tough situation, both of you trying to make each other’s lives easier. That eight years of separation and growth doesn’t change the feelings held at seventeen. 

Trinity understood that Dennis was heartbroken all over again, and instead of offering words of comfort she simply took his hand in hers and walked. They walked the entire way home, despite the 20 minute commute in the dark being unsafe. They walked into their shared apartment, hands clasped together, only letting go when Dennis pulled away, slinking off to his bedroom and shutting the door. That was all that could be done.

You were unable to sleep. It had been six weeks since your trip to the ER with Phoebe and now you had to return. You had taken the whole day off work, despite the fact Phoebe was adamant she wanted to go back to school after getting her cast off. It was a gym day and she needed to beat Derek in a game of field hockey. So despite your best efforts the night before you were unable to sleep, thoughts plagued by the blue eyes you had been running from for eight years.

You arrived at the ER early, at Phoebe's request, and despite the fact you know it takes hours for non-urgent cases to be processed you were moved to the back room within the hour. You felt your anxiety spike as Princess led you towards the bed Phoebe had sat in last time, this time you take your place on the stool beside her. She didn’t need to be held for this. Princess let you know that Doctor Santos would be looking after you again today and you just gave her a polite smile and nodded before she left.

Doctor Santos appeared within seconds, as if she had been waiting for you since you arrived. She had a smile on her face, one that seemed too tight and too fake. You questioned if Dennis had said anything to anybody since you were last here. You could feel your anxiety pick up further, the idea of an entire ER department hating you for abandoning a sweet boy weighing on your chest.

“Hi there Phoebe! You ready to remove that cast?” Doctor Santos questioned and Phoebe just nodded.

“Yes please, I didn’t get it wet or anything but it was really itchy so I did stick a pen under it.” You could help but laugh with Trinity as Phoebe professed what she believed to be a sin. You had already told her that the Doctors said it was okay to scratch under the cast but despite it all Phoebe swore it was an illegal act.

“Good work Phoebe. It’s okay to scratch under the cast though so you don’t need to stress.” Trinity spoke as she got the tools out to remove the cast. Trinity then explained to Phoebe how she will use the saw to cut the cast before prying it apart with large metal tongs. She didn’t hesitate to demonstrate on her own skin how the saw won’t cut Phoebe, but there will be some noise. You couldn’t help but smile as Trinity took care of Phoebe, she was a natural with kids. 

There was a small part of you that wondered if maybe her and Dennis had something going on, remembering the way she called him Huckleberry and questioned your relation to him. It stung you more than you thought you would, and you rubbed at your heart as you felt a pang. It was silly, you left Dennis. You had no claim over him or his love life.

It took about five minutes before the cast was removed, and Phoebe begged to keep it. She explained she was going to take it to school and show it off after she beat Derek at field hockey. Trinity simply laughed and handed the cast to her before explaining to you that Princess would return with the discharge forms.

“Are you sure you want to go to school today, Pheebs?” You questioned, you knew the answer already but you couldn’t help but try and snag some extra time with your kid.

“Yes Mum, I already told you.” You rolled your eyes at the sassy tone Phoebe took with you. That will be a problem in the future you could already tell, but at the age she was now it was still cute to you, like a kitten trying to scare a lion.

“Okay, I was just checking, sorry I want to spend time with my beautiful daughter.” You surprised Phoebe as you started smothering her in kisses, wrapping her up in your arms as she tried to escape.

“Ew mum stop it.” Phoebe pushed your face back with a laugh and you finally relented when you saw Princess return, tablet in hand. She instructed you on what you had to sign before discharging and within a few minutes you were all done, Phoebe’s school bag in hand.

“Thank you once again, Phoebe and I are very lucky to have such amazing medical staff so close to us.” You say to Princess and she just waves you off.

“It’s our job, we’re happy to help.” You just smile and nod before directing Phoebe towards the exit once again. You pass by Doctor Santos who didn’t notice you, busy speaking quietly into the phone. You don’t pick up much but you were certain that you heard her murmur Dennis’ name.

You tried not to give it a second thought as you started the car, double checking that Phoebe was buckled in. You were grateful her school wasn’t too far from the hospital so you had managed to drop her off before lunch had started. By the time she was signed in and the doctor's note handed to the front office you barely had time to tell her goodbye before she rushed off to her class.

It wasn’t until you returned to your car you realised you had a day off. The first day off in years, sure you had moments where Phoebe was babysat by your makeshift family but you were always working late during those times. You tried to think of what you could do. The house was clean after the usual Sunday deep clean you do with Phoebe, dinner was already cooked and your work was slow at the moment, no need for you to waste a day off going back.

You were ripped from your thoughts by your phone going off, you couldn’t help but laugh. Of course there was always something to distract you. You answered it after the third ring, not checking the ID assuming it would be from your work.

“Hello is this Mrs. Whitaker?” You paused, nobody you knew called you Mrs. Whitaker, always referring to you by your first name.

“Uh yeah, can I ask who is calling?” You felt your palms get sweaty, anxiety peaking once again. Thoughts ran through your head of who it could be. Maybe your aunt’s girlfriend got into an accident or maybe somebody from your home town tracked you down?

“This is Perlah from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre, you were here earlier I believe with your daughter Phoebe Whitaker?”

“Yes, is everything okay?” You were sure Perla could hear the panic in your voice, despite the fact you had just witnessed your daughter go to class and you were still sitting in the school parking lot. There was the irrational part of you worried that something had happened.

“Oh yes, everything is fine. We just missed some information for the discharge and we were hoping you could return just to complete them?” You furrowed your brows, you were pretty certain you had completed everything Princess asked you, and why would you need to return?

“Is there any way you could send me the documents to complete? Surely I don’t need to come back in?” You were really hoping you didn’t. You were grateful enough you managed to avoid Dennis this time, you doubt you would be lucky the second trip.

“Um…” You could hear a slight muffle over the phone as Perlah spoke to somebody else, you couldn’t quite make out what she was saying before she had returned. “Unfortunately due to privacy reasons that won’t be possible, it will have to be in person.”

You felt a sigh escape your lips before you could stop yourself, and you let your head lightly slam into the headrest. You took a beat before replying.

“Yes of course I understand, I will be there soon.” Perlah thank you, explaining that once you arrive just go straight to the front desk and let them know you are there. You mutter a goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, as if it was pressing against your lungs. You tried to take a few deep breaths, each other coming out shakier than the last. You made eye contact in your rearview mirror and allowed yourself five seconds of panic before sucking it up and making your way back to the ER, thoughts of Dennis still on your mind.

Lupe recognised you as you made your way to the front and gave you a smile before pressing a button. The door next to the front office space opened up and to your surprise Trinity stood there, tablet in hand and a large smile on her face. You expected it to Princess considering she had originally discharged you but you made your way over to the doctor nonetheless.

“Hi Mrs Whitaker! Sorry about this.” Trinity began as she guided you towards the nurses station and you just waved her off. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as you can, the fear of running into Dennis growing every second.

“All good, I get it - so where do I need to sign?” You questioned, hands making a move for the tablet in Trinity’s hands. Before you could grasp it, she moved it from your hands.

“Oh um… This is the wrong tablet, sorry it’s for a different patient.” Trinity was rambling, you could tell. You noticed the way her eyes glanced around the room as she backed away from you a little. “I’ll grab the other tablet now, be right back.” She was gone before you could respond.

You found yourself tapping your fingers at the nurses station while you waited, you could see Princess standing next to another nurse pretending to work while staring at you. You tried to brush off the stares as you felt sweat begin to pool on the back of your neck. You felt like an animal at the zoo, everybody staring and watching, waiting for you to do something. They must know. God they must hate you.

You could feel your breaths get shallow once again and you willed yourself to calm down. It was ridiculous to have a panic attack in the middle of the ER, these doctors and nurses didn’t need you to make a scene. Maybe you should leave, get some fresh air. Tell them that you will have to come back another day, and never return. You could runaway, sure Phoebe is set up here but she’s a good kid and could make friends anywhere, somewhere sunny where Dennis isn’t.

You didn’t notice your palms shake, or the fact you had closed your eyes and were swaying slightly. You didn’t notice an arm wrap around your shoulder as someone directed you away from the lights and noises and the stares. You tried to calm your breathing but it only got away from you, tears were pooled in your eyes and you allowed the person guiding you to push you onto a chair? Maybe it was a hospital bed. You couldn’t tell.

“I need you to breathe okay.” You know that voice, and despite his best efforts your breath picks up faster.

“Okay follow me, breathe in-” You hear him count and you try to follow his steps as he tells you to breathe out. You know about box breathing, you know it works - you have used it on clients in the past, as well as yourself back in the day.

It takes a few sets but soon your breath is slowed, however the panic doesn’t dissipate. You’re afraid to open your eyes, to see him standing in front of you. You hate that he helped, that despite everything he saw you were distressed and swooped in like he always would.

“Can you open your eyes for me?” You wanted to shake your head and say no but as if your body was back to seventeen, and knew that Dennis was safe they opened anyways.

You blinked the last few tears away and soon the blurry vision of Dennis washed away. He was there, in front of you. Concern written all over his face. You were in a private room, the blinds pulled down and the lights off. You were sitting on top of a hospital bed and Dennis was here. He wasn’t wearing scrubs, just plain jeans and a hoodie you swore he had when he was younger.

“What happened?” Dennis questioned and you could only open your mouth, the words dying on your tongue. He didn’t fill in the silence, didn’t try to speak for you. Just watched as you tried to find the words.

“They needed me to fill out the discharge paperwork… everyone was staring.” You paused. It sounded silly. “I just panicked I guess… I was afraid to see you.” You saw a look of hurt flash across Dennis’ face before it was replaced with a look you were sure he used as a doctor. The kind of look that made you feel safe, like he saw truly saw you.

“You were afraid to see me?” Dennis stood up taller, the hands that were itching to reach out to you shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked young like this, like he was still a scared kid trying to do right by everybody. It broke your heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you or make it difficult for you at work. I’m sure people are already questioning you about me.” Dennis couldn’t hide the scoff he let out. 

“You didn’t want to hurt me? As if leaving in the middle of the night with my kid wasn’t hurtful?” 

You hated this. You hated the way he looked at you, as if you were some stranger. As if you had no right to care about his feelings. You hated the fact he called Phoebe his, and the fact that he still came to your rescue.

“Dennis…” You didn’t know what to say. There was nothing you could say to ease this. You didn’t really think about the hurt you caused to Dennis after you left, you were sure that he was better off without you. 

“You left me.” Dennis tried to calm himself. He wasn’t angry, well he was, but more than that he was confused. He was confused over his feelings for you, wanting to hate you but also he couldn’t be happier you were here. You had no chance to respond before he spoke again.

“You left me with a note. You didn’t answer your calls, didn’t even tell me you were okay.” Dennis shook his head before sitting down on the stool in front of you. You watched as ran a hand over the back of his neck, a trait you hadn’t seen him have before. It reminds you of the time you missed, of how much he has grown. How different he is while remaining the same.

“I couldn’t” Dennis scoffed again, his eyes finally looking up at yours. You felt that pull, the kind that happens when you're staring into the face of the person you love, that makes you want to fall apart in their arms.

“I didn’t want to hold you back. You had already given up your scholarship to go to community college for me and you and I both knew you would never have gone to med school as long as I was there.”

He wanted to argue with you, tell you that you couldn’t have known that. That you didn’t get to decide what his future would be. He knew the truth, he knew that you were right. He had already talked to his parents about switching his major to theology, moving towards religious studies, maybe becoming a teacher. He also knew he wouldn't have cared if he wasn’t a doctor. He would gladly give it all up to be with you and Phoebe, help raise her.

“That wasn’t your decision to make.” 

The words hang in the air. You feel the guilt you had been running from creeping back in, the same guilt that haunted your house as a child, that followed you into the back of some guys' pickup truck, pants discarded in the ground. The guilt that slept in between you and Dennis back in the small barn you called home at seventeen.

You knew now he was right. That you could have stayed, you could have found a different type of happiness with Dennis. You wouldn’t be free like you are now and you would be bound by family obligations that you escaped when you. But you would have Dennis, and you understand, now more than ever, that Dennis is enough. He was more than enough. He was everything.

“I’m sorry.” 

It doesn’t change the past. It doesn’t undo the pain. It doesn’t explain why you did what you did. It just is. A simple apology, long overdue. 

“I’m sorry too.” 

The two of you sat, quiet. You glanced at his face every so often, only to catch him already looking at you. Neither of you speak, not quite knowing what to say or where to go from here. Thankfully that decision is taken off both of your shoulders as the door opens, Doctor Robby’s face appearing in the doorway.

“Oh.” He was clearly shocked to see the two of you here. “Whitaker, today is your day off. What are you doing here?” Dennis turned to the door, jumping off the stool.

“Sorry, I was just helping out an old friend.” A look is shared between the two doctors before the door is opened wider.

“Maybe take it outside. This is an ER, not a therapist’s office.” The words sound harsh but there is a softness behind Doctor Robby’s tone. He’s giving you two an out. 

Without much discussion you jump off the bed before creeping past Dennis and Robby, you know Dennis will follow you. A few steps behind, to give you the space you always desired, but the knowledge that he isn’t gone. The two of you walk out into the parking lot and you don’t turn around until you reach your car. He’s there, like you knew he would be.

“We should talk… about it all.” It isn’t a question, there’s no choice for you to decline.

“We should.” It’s an olive branch. A white flag. It’s surrender. 

Dennis just nods before pulling out his phone, you take it from his hands - careful to avoid his fingers - before you type your number in. You send yourself a text before handing it back. Your way of letting him know you weren’t going to disappear.

“I missed you.” It should be comforting, but it stings as the words hit you. You can feel tears beginning to prick your eyes once again.

“Me too.” 

You pulled your keys from your purse and unlocked your car, the beep breaking whatever spell had been cast over the two of you. You don’t make a move to open the door, just continue to stare at Dennis. He hovers, like he is afraid that if he turned around you would disappear once again. 

You’re the one to make the first move, hand opening the car door and stepping behind it. There are no more words to be said at this moment. Dennis blinks, once, twice, before giving you a small smile. You return what you can, and then he turns around and walks away. 

You don’t move, don’t enter your car, just continue to watch him as he walks off. He fights the urge to turn around, to cement you into his reality, he just walks. It’s not until he is out of your eye sight that you feel your breath return to your chest, and your muscles relax. You slid into the front seat of the car and will your hands to stop shaking before pulling out of the car park and returning home.

a/n: Hello! I am addicted to the Pitt and couldn't get this idea out of my head. Loosely based off of "White Trash Wedding" by The Chicks. Also I am Australian so apologies if my understanding of America is very bad... I also haven't written a fanfic in like three years nor have I edited this so please enjoy LOL!

[saccharinespring]

Golden Boy (dennis whitaker x reader)

PAIRING: Dennis Whitaker x Reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k SUMMARY: You're having a terrible period - thankfully you have a beautiful boyfriend who is there to look after you CW: established relationship, reader has a history of period issues but no diagnosis made, reader has an IUD, all fluff, dennis being the sweetest, mention of doctors being flippant and rude about readers weight and lifestyle but no body descriptions

read on ao3 | masterlist

You were going to murder someone, or murder yourself, you were undecided. All you knew is somebody in the near vicinity of you had to die. It was the only solution to fix the way you were feeling, unfortunately for you the only other person currently near you was your very sweet, very charming, very lovely boyfriend and you really didn't want to kill him. So the only other option was yourself - if your body didn’t take you out first.

For as long as you could remember you hated getting your period. It wasn’t just the blood (although there was always so much blood) but it was the three weeks of hormones, the cramps that made it impossible to move without crying and the constant doctor appointments that just led nowhere. If it wasn’t your eating habit or exercise routine it was your weight or your sleeping schedules, eventually you just gave up and resigned yourself to a life of suffering.

Then you met Dennis a year ago, back when he was in his third year of medical school and despite how desperately he tried to convince you to get more testing you just shut him down. You had been trying to get help since you were a teen and between the mix of birth controls and invasive tests that left you in more pain than you had been originally, and despite his career choices Dennis eventually understood your point of view. 

You and Dennis had only been official for eight months now but after the first two months of dating you eventually decided to try again with birth control. Thankfully you found a doctor who had listened to you when you told them how you have tried a lot of options, all of them leaving you more hormonal and emotional than the others. After some online research you broached the idea of trying an IUD, your doctor supporting you 100% as she helped you get used to it.

It helped more than you would’ve liked to admit, the three weeks of the month where you felt like you were going crazy and you couldn’t tell if you were actually depressed or just your period was suddenly gone. Your cramps had lessened as well, only small ones that were easy to breathe through - which felt like nothing compared to the whole body cramps you used to get (not just when on your period but during your ovulation cycle as well). You still had your period, although it was less heavy and a little more irregular you just assumed it was your body getting used to it.

That’s why when you started your period early this month you didn’t pay it much attention, assuming that it was just your body slowly getting used to not having a period, but then it didn’t stop. Now you were on week two of having a period and it had only become more painful and heavy as the days went past. Dennis had suggested that you come into the ER to get checked out but you waved him off, it wasn’t nearly as bad as your period used to be so you were sure you would be fine, but you did book a doctor's appointment just to ease his concern.

You had five days before the doctor's appointment and you swore that you would be able to manage life between now and then - then you felt yourself get light headed when you tried to get out of bed this morning and after a quick phone call Dennis was now in your apartment ready to look after you. He had brought over groceries and soup from your favourite restaurant that was high in iron, before making you a high protein salad to help get your strength back up. He had also started to run you a bath as you continued to lay in bed, your limbs feeling as if they had been tied down to the bed with bricks.

You could hear Dennis potter around your apartment, you had no energy to open your eyes to check what he was doing, all you wanted was just some sort of release. He had forced you to take some painkillers as soon as he arrived (it was not the first time the two of you came head to head over your fear of becoming addicted to Advil) and told you just to try and relax as he helped you out.

“Hey baby, your bath is ready?” You could feel Dennis’ hand rest on your back, slowly stroking it in an attempt to comfort you. You responded with a small whine, and a slow stretch of your body. Everything ached and the idea of moving even an inch further felt like an impossible task. 

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to move but you will feel better I promise.” Dennis wrapped his arms around you and tugged you up, giving you a slight kiss to your forehead as you forced yourself to your feet.

“Thank you Den.” You mumbled it under your breath and slowly made your way down to the bathroom, stripping your clothes as you went - you could pick them up later - right now you were craving the warmth of a steamy bath. You remember when you were younger reading a book that your mum had on one the high shelves and it telling all husbands that if your wife was ever in a mood to put her in water like a plant. You don’t love the plant comparisons or the idea that a woman's bad mood is just because they needed to be cleaned, but you will admit you did agree that a bath fixed a lot of your problems. 

The bathroom had been lit up purely by candles that you were sure Dennis had bought before coming over here because you never had this many, the bath was steaming and had lavender scented bubbles about to spill out from the top. Dennis had even gone as far to set up a small bath table for you with a small snack platter and a glass of your favourite drink, meanwhile his laptop was set up on a small table to the side of the bath - your favourite romcom already loaded up for you.

“Dennis…” You felt tears begin to roll down your cheeks, the hormones increasing your sensitivity. “You really didn’t have to do all of this, it’s too much.”

You felt Dennis’ arms wrap around your naked body, head coming to rest on your shoulder. His fingers stroked patterns into your skin, following your stretch marks and freckles. 

“I wanted to.” He placed a small kiss on the back of your shoulder and you felt yourself relax into him. Honestly there was a part of you that wanted to skip the bath completely and just have Dennis let his hands work their magic on you, but the idea of being cradled by warm water and candle lights was too tempting. “I want you to feel better.”

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around your waist before helping you into the bath, leaning down to give you a kiss - this time on the lips - and just when you felt the urge to tug him in closer he pulled back.

“You rest in here okay? I’m gonna finish making dinner.” You nodded as you sank further into the bath, your head just bobbing above the water as Dennis pressed play on his laptop. The movie becoming background noise as you tried your best to relax and destress. You did your best to ignore the fact your cramps were still strong and you were pretty sure you had bled into the bath quite a bit as you focused on just being warm, safe and relaxed.

The movie credits were rolling when Dennis returned to check in on you, the bubbles now all gone and the water getting cold (despite the fact you had topped it up with hot water multiple times). The steam had fogged up the mirrors and the wax from the candles were beginning to make puddles on the countertop where they had been placed. Dennis gave you a small smile as he came over to the side of the tub, hand reaching up to your face to wipe away some of the water.

“I feel dirty now.” You mumble, looking down at the water in front of you. There was no way you were going to be able to relax if you got out and put clothes on right away without at least rinsing off.

“Okay, let me clear this stuff away then we can drain the bath and get you into the shower?”

You nodded again, and you could feel the tears returning. Dennis was so gentle you felt like you had died and gone to heaven - you truly did not understand what you had done to deserve somebody like him. Previous relationships left you feeling anxious about these types of things, even having one ex-boyfriend get mad at you when you had bled onto his sheets and demanded that you pay for new ones. Dennis had never been like that, always understanding you and your issues and never being grossed out by your periods. Part of you assumed that was because of the whole doctor thing and that he would also have faced a lot worse, the other part also just knew that Dennis was never going to be that kind of guy.

By the time you were stepping out of your shower Dennis had already laid out a fresh towel for you (which was so warm you were sure it came from the dryer) along with a fluffy robe and a pair of period underwear (he knew how much you hated wearing pads and tampons at home). He had also sat out all your skincare and lotions, in the exact order that you used them, something you didn’t even think he took note of when he would sit in your bathroom as you did your nightly routine.

You weren’t sure if you had ever been loved like this, beyond just the acts of caring but the knowing as well. Dennis knew you better than you thought you knew yourself, knowing exactly what craving you were after and also keeping the window slightly open at night because he knew you overheated in your sleep. He paid attention to you, picked up on things you didn’t realise were so intrinsic to who you were until he pointed them out. 

Dennis insisted that you sit at the couch for dinner and you were pretty certain he was one groan of pain away from hand feeding you. The tv was playing some cheesy medical drama that you were obsessed with, and you enjoyed it more with Dennis - hearing his comments about how inaccurate it all was before complaining about the recent cheating scandal. Your head was tucked into his laps with your finished plates piled into the sink, Dennis insisting that he would wash them once you were in bed. His hand was resting over your stomach, the warmth of it easing with the pain (or maybe you were too busy trying to not cry again about how sweet he was to even notice the cramps anymore). You enjoyed the feeling of Dennis’ stomach pressing against your head every time he took a breath in, and the way his whole body would shake when he was laughing at how ridiculous the show was. 

You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you were woken up to Dennis shaking you shoulder softly and whispering your name, you let out a groan as you stretched on the couch and looked up at him. His blues eyes were already staring into yours and you felt yourself blush by how sincere he was, all of his thoughts and feelings out there in the open with just one look in his face.

“Good sleep baby?” 

“Yeah, always sleep good when you’re here.” Dennis smiled as he used his hand to brush your hair off of your face, hand resting on your jawline. You could feel the slight twinge in your back that comes from falling asleep on a couch and despite your best abilities you knew Dennis caught you flinching in pain.

“Let's go to bed, yeah?”

Dennis helped you sit up on the couch - laughing as you flopped your weight onto him, trapping him to stay. You knew he could overpower you easily but there was a level of trust that you had with Dennis that he never would; would never use his strength against you in any way - even playfully. Eventually you gave in and followed Dennis down the hall to your bedroom, the apartment was dark so you stumbled slightly hands bracing the wall to figure out where you were going. When you had entered the bedroom you noticed that Dennis had changed the sheets and there was a wheat bag sitting on the bed - Dennis had tucked you into your side of the bed before grabbing the wheatbag and promising he would be back quickly.

You heard the distinct sounds of Dennis washing the dishes and the microwave beeping as you allowed your body to relax deeper into your bed. You still had some serious cramps that had you holding your stomach, as if you could stop them from coming if you pressed down hard enough but you were comforted by the knowledge that Dennis was here, moving around your apartment as if it was his own. There was something so domestic about it and you resisted the urge to stand up, go out there and beg him to move in with you, to spend the rest of his life within these walls with you. 

Dennis returned just in time, your eyes beginning to shut once again, opening up when you heard his footsteps padding down the hall. He pulled the covers off you slightly before sliding the now heated wheat bag onto your stomach, just over your uterus, pulling back to strip himself down to his boxers before crawling into bed with you. Your back immediately found his chest, and you used his best arm as a pillow as the other snuck around your waist, resting over the wheat bag to keep it settled in the correct spot. You hummed with content, your legs beginning to intertwine with Dennis’ and you enjoyed the way you could his breath hit the back of your neck before he pressed a small kiss there instead.

You mumbled out a sleepy ‘I love you’ to Dennis before snuggling further into his body as he told you he loved you back, his voice getting slightly deeper as the promise of sleep took over both of you. Your body still ached, and you could feel the blood pouring out of you when it was particularly heavy but you had no worries as you felt Dennis tighten his arm around you, a sign to let you know that he was right there next you, and that he wasn’t leaving.

a/n: ngl guys i wrote this just for me, all the period talks have been my experience - despite the fact that I have a family history of PCOS and Endometriosis no doctor has ever helped me understand why my period and hormones are so awful lol - but i got the Mirena and everything is better (except for rn bc I am having the worst period)

[saccharinespring]

WHITE TRASH WEDDING P.3

Part One | Part Two

PAIRING: Dennis Whitaker x Reader WORD COUNT: 6.3k SUMMARY: You were destined to be together, you knew that now. CW: Teen Pregnancy (mentioned), implied childhood abuse, mentions of bullying, actual happy ending

read on ao3 | masterlist

The next few weeks went by quicker than you had liked, with you and Dennis texting nearly every day - even managing to sneak away from your jobs to grab a quick coffee when time permitted. The two of you talked about your days, about old memories - you even ended filling him in on how Phoebe’s days went, which he seemed to appreciate. It was nice to have him back in your life, to have somebody who knew the worst version of you and to be proud of who you were now. 

Despite the fact you had been sharing parts of Phoebe’s life with Dennis, you were still hesitant to introduce the two of them - there was no logical reason behind your hesitation but you were grateful that Dennis never pressed the issue. You knew you would introduce the two of them soon, you wanted them to meet honestly, it was just a hard topic to explain to your soon to be nine year old daughter.

Unfortunately for you, Phoebe was a smart kid, and a snoop through and through - so the week before her birthday you were cornered by her at dinner.

“Who’s Dennis?” The question made you choke on your bite of rice, having a small coughing fit before you could respond.

“He’s a friend, how do you know about Dennis?” You found through your years of parenting that it was best to be direct and honest with Phoebe, she had a way of telling when you were lying (which was very annoying when trying to sneak vegetables in her pasta).

“I see you texting him all the time” She only glances at you when speaking before shoving another mouthful of buttered noodles into her mouth. You had tried to convince her to eat the meal you had spent over an hour cooking but some battles were not worth the effort after she had a small melt down.

“Do I know Dennis?” Did she? In fairness you had left before she even had her first birthday but Dennis was the one who witnessed her birth, and he was the one to help at the ER.

“You do - he was the doctor who had the same last name as us.” You tried to maintain a level of vagueness, not quite wanting to share how technically Dennis was your husband and her step-father.

“Oh yeah - he was cool.” 

There it was, the dismissiveness that only a child could have, so completely unaware of the panic she had brought to you by a simple question. It makes you feel silly for being so stressed, for keeping them so separate. Maybe the best way to have them come together was to be casual.

“He was… he actually knew you as a baby.” You looked up from your dinner to check how Phoebe reacted to the news. Her face was painted with shock as she pushed away the chair and immediately stood up.

“He knew me as a baby!?” 

“Yes - he was actually my best friend growing up!” You tried to remain positive, she didn’t need to know the true history of the two of you - not yet anyways. Maybe when she is older you will break the news, tell her what life had been like for you back then and why you did what you did… but not yet - you wanted to keep the innocence for as long as you can.

The questions didn’t stop after that simple comment, soon Phoebe was begging for proof, asking why she had never met him before, if you were best friends, where did you guys live, what it was like to live on a farm, who were the other people in the photo.

You tried to respond the best way you could, showing her the photo of Dennis at her birth (among others), telling her that you and Dennis had lost contact after she was born, you had grown up in Broken Bow Nebraska, you didn’t really live on a farm but Dennis did and could tell her all about it, and that the others in the photo’s were your brothers - her uncles.

You had never really divulged this information to Phoebe before, always keeping it vague when she asked why she didn’t have grandparents like her friends - telling her that Nanna was her grandma and that it didn’t have to be by blood to be family. It was nice to be able to share it with her, you doubt you would have if you hadn’t run into Dennis, you were happy to keep your past locked up in a safe to never see the light of day again.

You had managed to get Phoebe to bed by promising that she could meet Dennis and ask him all the questions you couldn’t answer - majority of which were less focused on your life and more about cows and chickens. It made you feel hopeful that she was so excited by the idea of Dennis, and once again you were reminded by how much they seemed to have in common.

That night you called Dennis as you got ready for bed, he had just gotten off his shift at the hospital so he was happy to chat with you as he walked home. You had found a few days ago that Dennis was currently without a car and recently moved in with his coworker (Trinity - the one who had helped with Phoebe’s cast), and without asking he had reassured you that she was a lesbian and there was nothing going on between them. You didn’t admit to him that you were over the moon to hear that.

The two of you talked while you brushed his teeth, while he picked up take-away for dinner and all the way until he was wrapped up in his covers as were you. You had mentioned to him that Phoebe had asked about him at dinner and that she was dying to meet him. Before you had finished the sentence Dennis was rattling off his availability and the two of you organised a play date for the next day.

You and Phoebe arrived at the park near your apartment thirty minutes early - you had explained to her in the morning that Dennis wanted to meet her and she seemed more than happy to spend an afternoon at the park with him. You had tried to keep her occupied until the two of you had to leave but there was only so much you could do before you threw the towel in a left early, hoping that Phoebe could another kid her age to keep her company until Dennis arrived.

You had spotted Dennis before he found you, he was dressed up - not in a suit or anything but in a nice shirt and a pair of shoes you had never seen him wear before. He also held a small gift in his hand, wrapped in spider-man wrapping paper and tied with a red bow. He looked like a dad who was finally getting to spend the weekend with his kid… which you guess wasn’t far off from the actual scenario. You gave him a wave and watched as the anxiety that was painted over his face dissipated, as if seeing you was a cure to all the issues he had with the world, like you were his very own nirvana.

Before you had a chance to greet him properly Phoebe had sprinted over, crashing into you slightly as she saw Dennis approach. Her smile was wide (mainly because she had just convinced the other kid there to give her his pokemon cards in exchange for a slice of fairy bread) but also from the excitement of meeting Dennis. She wasted no time on her interrogation of the man, cutting him off before he even had a chance to speak.

“Is that gift for me?” 

Dennis found himself blushing a bit, realising now that maybe he had overstepped in getting Phoebe a gift, only glancing at you as if to ask for permission to give it - you nodded in response.

“Yeah - your mum was telling me about how much you loved Spider-Man, thought you might enjoy this.” Dennis handed the gift off to Phoebe, looking at you once again, the nerves returning in full. You offered him a small smile in hopes of easing them, before eyes catching on what the gift had actually been.

It was anything too big or crazy, a simple action finger maybe the length of your forearm - but to Phoebe you could tell it was the most important thing she had ever received.

“Woah he’s so bendy.” You could only roll your eyes over the fact that of course she didn’t say thank you, moving straight onto the toy itself.

“Phoebe what do you say when you get a gift?” 

“Thank you - do you want to play superheroes with me? Mum is bad at it, she can never remember their powers.” You felt yourself scoff a laugh, she wasn’t entirely incorrect but you couldn’t hide the offence.

“I’m sure she tries her best… but I would love to play superheroes with you.”

It was as simple as that, as if no time had passed at all - like Dennis and Phoebe were meant to be best friends. You sat on the bench as you watched the two of them run around the playground, you were honestly amazed that Dennis was able to keep up as well as keep her entertained. You loved your girl truly, but you couldn’t deny her tendencies to get bored quickly and give up playing when people didn’t play it right. 

You couldn’t hold back a smile as you watched as Phoebe pretended to wrap Dennis up in Spider-Man’s webs (you were pretty sure Dennis was the villain now - although he was rather unconvincing) Dennis falling to the ground, arms stuck to his side as he begged for mercy. It was nice for Phoebe to have other people in her life that she could enjoy herself around - sometimes you felt guilty that you had deprived her of the regular family life with normal grandparents and another parent. You knew she was happy with Nanna and Second Mum and that your parents would have been a terrible influence on her, but there was still a part of you that wished she could have had a normal family structure.

It wasn’t long until Phoebe had dragged you over to play with her and Dennis, making you promise that you will remember your powers (you did not) and the three of you continued to play for over an hour. It was starting to get late into the afternoon by the time you had called for a break, both you and Dennis completely out of breath whereas Phoebe was still dangling from the monkey bars - complaining about having to go home and inviting Dennis to come over for dinner so he can see her superhero toys.

That’s how the three of you ended up in your apartment, Dennis and Phoebe sitting on the lounge room floor playing with her toys - or more so, Phoebe explaining the backstory of each of her dolls as Dennis nodded and tried to keep up. You were in the kitchen making a simple pasta for the three of you, grateful that Dennis was here to distract Phoebe as you blended extra vegetables into the red sauce. 

Dennis was sure that this day was the greatest day he had ever experienced. He is certain that when he dies and they play out the highlights of his life this day will be there (right after the day the two of you got married but he would never admit that), from playing superheroes on the playground to now, eating a homemade dinner with his wife and daughter. 

He was nervous about how this day would go, thinking that buying a gift might have been too far or that maybe Phoebe would despise him and he would never see you or her again. He could almost laugh at how wrong he was. Instead Phoebe had welcomed him with open arms, when she wasn’t rambling off superhero facts she was quizzing him on everything that involves a farm. She was smart, questioning him on things he didn’t even have the answers for and Dennis found himself struggling at points to keep up with her.

Dinner was a dream for him, sitting next to you, your chairs closer than is comfortable so he could brush his knee against yours. Phoebe sat in front of you, barely eating the pasta - more dedicated to getting Dennis to admit that her mum wasn’t cool back when she was her age - he refused, mainly because you were cool at nine but also there would never be a day Dennis ever spoke against you.

By the time dinner had finished you had taken Phoebe off to bed and Dennis found himself standing in your apartment alone. A part of him thought he should probably feel more uncomfortable being alone in your space, a bigger part of him felt like he was at home. That was the part that didn’t hesitate grabbing the dishes and making his way to the kitchen to begin cleaning up. Dennis knew your mother taught you how to cook at a young age, also forcing you to clean as you cooked - however you must have grown out of that trait as there were dishes and food scraps everywhere. It was nice for him to see, it reminded him of how far from that girl you have become - someone who isn’t controlled by what her mother deems appropriate.

By the time Dennis was scrubbing the last pan you had returned, it had taken you at least 20 minutes and he had overheard the stories you had read, doing all the voices as well. You didn’t speak to him as you had walked in, instead grabbing a clean teatowel to begin drying the dishes, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dennis. It wasn’t romantic, there were no dimmed lights or romantic soft jazz playing in the background, but it did feel comfortable, like this was exactly how the two of you were meant to be. Working together.

“Thank you, for today.” Your voice is soft and Dennis almost missed it as he placed the last pan in the dish rack. He found himself staring at you as your eyes remained focused on the plate you were drying in your hand. You opened your mouth again before Dennis could respond.

“It means a lot… to see you and Phoebe get along.” You had placed the plate down on the bench before turning your body to face Dennis. The two of you were caught in a staring contest, his hands were itching to reach out and grab your face, to pull you into him.

“It means a lot to me too… I’m really glad you let me in.” Dennis could only watch as a blush fell across your cheeks, your eyes darting down to your feet before meeting his gaze again.

Dennis was aware that he shouldn’t kiss you, that you had made no motion that there was anything more between you than friendship, that it could ruin everything the two of you had been building if he leant into you. It would be a terrible idea if he kissed you at this moment. However, all Dennis wanted was to kiss you, the way he has always wanted to kiss you.

Dennis remembers the first he felt this way, the feelings of wanting to kiss you, to tell you how much he loved you. He was fourteen and there was a ridiculous Sadie Hawkins dance happening at your school and despite the fact there were three girls to one guy he hadn’t been asked. His mum used to call him a late bloomer, still a couple of inches smaller than the girls in his class and his face still held the baby fat that would disappear when puberty would eventually hit him.

He wasn’t popular and not being asked just made him more aware of it, it also made the other boys in his class more aware - which of course led to excessive bullying (on top of the bullying he was already experiencing). You had asked multiple times if he wanted you to help, to step in and put an end to it all. Dennis now would accept your help, would let you take the lead - a younger Dennis however decided that having a girl help him was stupid and you were stupid. In fact a younger Dennis had called you annoying and a brat and basically embarrassed you in front of your entire class. 

It wasn’t until the week before the dance that it all came to a head. After a particularly bad day Dennis had just wanted to get home and never speak to any one ever again. Despite the fact he was the one who had pushed you away, he was upset that you had actually left, you had been avoiding him for a week - hanging out with the other girls in the class over him. His hopes were dashed, with a simple push Dennis was sprawled out on the pavement. His bag had been torn open, the lunchbox now broken and covering the bag in scraps and his knees and palms were bleeding. There was no one there to help him, just the sound of laughter filling the air.

Then you were there, because of course you were there. You were never one to back down from a fight and especially one that involved people hurting the ones you loved, and despite his cruel words - there was still a part of that loved him. So with a closed fist you had given the kid that pushed him a black eye, kicked the others between the legs before helping Dennis up. You had then loudly proclaimed that if anybody had an issue with Dennis then they could deal with you, and then to top it off you gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him you will pick him up for the dance.

That was it for Dennis. There was nobody else, nobody who would ever take your place on the mantle he put you on. You were his soulmate. He knew it at fourteen and he knew it now, staring into your eyes, wet dishes next to you and your daughter asleep in the other room. Dennis was deeply in love with you, and there was no world where he wouldn’t be.

Dennis didn’t lean in, instead he reached into the sink and flicked you with soapy water, laughing as you let out a small scream, before reaching in yourself and splashing him back. Kissing you would have been a terrible idea, because Dennis loved you, and because he loved you he was going to wait. Wait until you caught on to what he already knew, that you loved him as well. That you and him were destined to be together, your stories written and intertwined before either of you had been born. And when you did realise these simple facts, then Dennis would kiss you for the first time, and the two of you will never kiss anybody else ever again.

Dennis Whitaker was a life saver. Not only in his job, but outside of it too. Especially to you and especially today.

You would say that you’re a good mother, that you give all the love and care you could possibly have to your girl, that you let her express herself no matter what and you support all of her new hobbies. You are a good mother - you are just a forgetful person. Which is why the day before Phoebe’s birthday and 20 kids make themselves at home in your tiny apartment you suddenly remembered that you didn’t order a cake. Not just any cake, the cake Phoebe had drawn out herself and handed to you demanding that you have it for her party. You had meant to, but between work and looking after a rowdy child (and calling Dennis every single day) it had slipped your mind, the drawing still tucked into your bag.

Which is why, at 11pm Dennis was your lifesaver, arriving at your door an hour after you had called him in a panic, shopping bags in hand - filled with everything required to make Phoebe the cake of her dreams (a combination of Spider-Man, Lightning McQueen and Bratz on a beach). Beyond just running the errand for you Dennis had rolled up his sleeves (despite working a 15 hour shift that day) and helped you bake and decorate the cake - a skill that he was quite talented with. In fact you found that you were a better instruction giver than cake maker.

The two of you placed the finishing touches on the cake by 5am, the sky beginning to lighten from the nearing sunrise, and placed the cake into the fridge - both of you completely drained. Which is why by the time Second Mum had wandered over from her apartment across the hall and let herself in at 6am she found the two of you asleep on your sofa, covered in icing of a variety of colours and arms wrapped around each other. Your head buried into Dennis’ chest and his scrub covered leg thrown over your hip.

She didn’t make a noise as she took a quick photo of the two of you before moving down the hall to check in on Phoebe. She had told you that she would take Phoebe out in the morning so you could get your apartment ready for the party, which is why she was sneaking around your apartment so early in the morning. Peeping into Phoebe’s room she found the girl already awake, sleep still in her eyes and bed hair a complete mess. The two of them snuck out of your apartment (after Second Mum explained that you and Dennis had a sleepover and stayed up too late) and made their way across the hall into her own apartment where a pancake breakfast and a few small gifts were awaiting the young girl.

By the time you woke up the sun was shining through your apartment windows and there was an empty space on your couch where you swore Dennis would be. You tried to ignore the hurt that Dennis left while you were sleeping as you pulled yourself off the couch - noticing the cup of steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of you along with a small note from Dennis stating that he went home to shower but would return before the party to help you set up and for you to enjoy the coffee. 

You got yourself up and running as quick as possible, jumping in the shower to wash away the dried icing from your hair before grabbing the presents you had got for Phoebe to open in the morning and made your way across the hall to celebrate with Phoebe before Second Mum took her out for the day as you set up the apartment. You had a lot of party pies and fairy bread to make for the hoard of children that were soon to appear.

Dennis returned two hours later, fresh and clean and willing to help out with the decorations that needed your step stool to be hung up. He asked how Phoebe’s birthday morning went and you filled him in on what he had missed, even showing photos of her covered in maple syrup and eyes gleaming with her brand new Bratz doll (that was custom made to look like Spider-Man). The two of you worked in tandem, slowly turning your house into a mix of Spider-Man, Cars and Bratz decorations.

Phoebe had returned from her shopping spree with Second Mum, bags in hand and a scowl on her face - she stomped through your apartment and yelled at you when you asked her what was wrong. Even throwing a pillow at your head when you attempted to come into her room, Dennis could only watch with wide eyes as you attempted to calm Phoebe down. Meanwhile, Second Mum explains that Phoebe was fine until picking out an outfit for the party, getting mad at the idea of wearing a special dress and demanding that they should cancel the whole party.

You didn’t know what to do - you could honestly care less what Phoebe wore to her birthday party and you knew she knew that as well, so you were certain that there was more to this than she was letting on. You slunk back into the living room, falling into the couch throwing your head back, a small groan leaving your lips. Dennis stood behind you, watching as you rubbed your temples with your fingers - clearly stressed out by your upset child and the nearing party. So Dennis did what he did best, attempt to save your day once again.

Dennis knocked lightly on Phoebe’s door before cracking it open, despite the fact all the girl did was let out a muffled scream into her pillow when he did.

“Hey Pheebs,” Dennis approached her slowly. “Heard you were having a bad day?” 

Dennis sat himself down on her bedroom floor and Phoebe glared at him from her bed. She didn’t respond, instead huffing and turning away from him.

“Your mum says you don’t want to wear a dress today?” 

Once again there was no response, just a short scream in return and a kick of her legs. Dennis honestly didn’t know if he was helping or making the situation worse but he stayed by her side.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to wear a dress… in fact you don’t have to wear anything if you want, it’s your birthday.” 

“That’s stupid, you have to wear clothes.”

Finally, a response.

“Who says?”

“Everybody.” 

Dennis let out a small laugh at Phoebe’s straightforward response, which only made the girl glare at him again forcing him to close his mouth.

“I didn’t wear clothes to my ninth birthday party.” A lie, an absolute lie, but Dennis knew that sometimes all kids need was a distraction and to feel heard.

“No you didn’t, everybody has to wear clothes.” Phoebe had found herself sitting up on her bed, turning to face Dennis on the floor. Tears were still falling from her eyes and she was still glaring at him, but it was small progress.

“It’s true - you can even ask your mum, she was there!” 

“I don’t believe you, nobody would be your friend if you were naked.” She says it like its gospel, that it's a fact that can’t be refuted.

“Your mum was my friend.” 

“That’s because she’s nice, other kids aren’t nice.” 

There it was, the deeper issue.

“Are kids not nice to you?” Dennis tries to approach it lightly, hoping that it won’t scare the girl away and make her close down again.

“I don’t know, sometimes…”

Phoebe’s eyes were staring at her lap, hands twisting the blanket in front of her and voice small, barely a mumble.

“Do they hurt your feelings?”

Phoebe shrugged, voice seemingly missing again.

“Well those kids sound stupid.” Dennis probably shouldn’t be calling a child stupid, but in his honest opinion any child that bullied Phoebe was stupid.

Phoebe let out a small laugh at Dennis’ words, she knew that you would never call the other kids stupid - it was nice to have somebody on her side in this.

“Yeah they are - they said that I’m weird.”

“You’re not weird Phoebe, you’re clever and funny and very brave.” Dennis pulled himself up onto Phoebe’s bed, still allowing Phoebe to have her space but hoping she knows that he is there for her.

“No I’m not… they call me dumb all the time,” Phoebe wipes her eyes and tears fall again. 

“You’re not dumb - I bet those kids have no idea how Spider-Man got his powers or how he built his suit.” 

Phoebe only nodded in response again, and Dennis felt his heart breaking and her saddened face. It was silly to him that there was anybody in this world who met Phoebe and didn’t automatically fall in love with her. Dennis reached a hand out and rested it upon Phoebe’s head, petting it slowly.

“Are those kids going to be here today? Is that why you want to cancel the party?” Phoebe only nodded again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Well I am sure if you explained it to your mum she would understand, she might be able to help you?”

Phoebe only shrugged as Dennis stood up and offered his hand, which she took shyly before following him out into the loungeroom. You were up off the couch and on the phone - noticing Phoebe and Dennis return you told the person you were speaking to goodbye before hanging up.

“Hey lovely girl,” You knelt down and opened your arms which Phoebe ran to right away. “What’s up my pumpkin?” Your hand rested on Phoebe’s head, the other wrapped around her waist, rocking her slightly as she cried once again.

“She said that there are some kids coming who haven’t been very nice to her.” Dennis provided and Phoebe continued to cry in your arms.

“Oh my poor girl, why didn’t you say?” You felt Phoebe mumble something into your chest but were unable to make out a response. “Is this why you wanted to cancel the party?” 

Phoebe nodded into your chest and you let out a sigh, looking up at Dennis. You were hoping that he would have some insight in what to do. Dennis just sat himself down beside you, arm coming to wrap around your shoulders in an effort to comfort both you and Phoebe.

“Could we cancel the party?” Dennis had whispered it to you, quiet enough that Phoebe couldn’t hear.

“We can - I just don’t know how I would contact everybody that quickly.” You would never want to put Phoebe through a party she didn’t want, just because it would be difficult to cancel it. You didn’t care about the hours you spent decorating or the cake you baked - you just wanted her to be okay.

“I can do it, you just give me the numbers and I’ll take care of it while you take care of her.” 

If you weren’t in love with Dennis before, you definitely were now. 

You nodded as you leant down to whisper to Phoebe that you can cancel the party and you felt the girl relax in your arms and you slowly removed her from your lap and got the numbers for Dennis. He grabbed the paper from you and reassured you that he would just let them know that Phoebe had gotten sick and that’s why you wouldn’t be able to have the party today before leaving you in the living room with Phoebe.

The two of you played with the new toys Phoebe had bought today with Second Mum - who you sent a quick text to letting her know what happened and no need to stress. You got Phoebe to open up slightly about the bullying she was experiencing and you could feel your blood boil that nobody from her school had done anything or even contacted you about it all.

Dennis returned an hour later, and 30 minutes before the party was meant to start, a smile on his face. 

“Okay everybody has been contacted, so we can officially relax!” 

“Thank you Dennis, you’re a life saver.”

Phoebe just nodded in agreement, continuing to colour in her new colouring book - not even sparing a glance at Dennis. You pulled yourself up from the ground to meet Dennis by the kitchen island, leaning on the stainless steel surface. 

“I mean it Dennis, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Dennis could feel a blush rise to his cheeks as he leant on the island across from you, shoulders shrugging in an attempt to be cool.

“It’s no stress really, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“I know, that’s why it means so much.”

The two of you didn’t speak for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes before both of you pulled back as Phoebe called out for you. The young girl wondered if, since the party was cancelled, she could still have cake. The two of you let out a laugh before you let her know that yes she could still have cake, but she would need to eat some real food first - bringing her a plate of party snacks to eat first.

“I can head out if you want?” Dennis didn’t want to leave, he wanted to stay and celebrate Phoebe’s birthday with you. He wanted to sing happy birthday as Phoebe blew out the candles, and give her his gift and see her smile and take a photo of her covered in chocolate and icing.

“No-” you wanted to roll your eyes at your eagerness. “No you can stay… I want you to stay.”

And he did. Dennis stayed as the three of you played with Phoebe’s new doll’s, he stayed as you lit the candles and sang happy birthday to her, he stayed as Phoebe had her sugar high and her sugar crash. He stayed as the two of you helped her to bed (Phoebe begging Dennis to help read her a story), and stayed to help you clean up all the decorations and dishes. Finding himself in the same position he had been the night before, arms in the sink scrubbing dirty plates and you right next to him with a tea towel in hand.

“Thank you again, for everything today.”

“Of course,” Dennis paused before continuing to speak. “I would do anything for you, you know that.” 

You did, despite everything you had put Dennis through, you knew that he would drop anything to help you out. Not only that, you knew he would do anything for Phoebe. He was everything you remembered him being and more. You couldn’t imagine a life without him, not since you got him back into your life.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to put the tea towel down and turning Dennis to face you. You took in the shock from his face but continued your movement, hands cupping his jaw, stroking over his cheek bones. His eyes were wide and mouth was slightly a part as you stared at him.

“Dennis,” you hesitated. “I’m so grateful for you, for everything you have done for me - not just today but my entire life… you were the guy who protected me from all the hurt I had gone through and I will never forgive myself for leaving you and hurting you but I need to tell you this…” 

Dennis could feel his breath get caught, unsure if you were going to say what he was hoping you would say. He resisted the urge to pinch himself, instead reaching a hand up (still wet and soapy) to grab one of yours and linked your fingers with his.

“I should have told you this years ago but Dennis Whitaker… I love you and I’m sorry I was late to realise it but you deserve to know, and you deserve to know that I want to be yours… beyond just sharing a last name.”

You watched as Dennis just stared at you. You could feel your pulse picking up as the fear of rejection made itself home in your chest, your breath coming out shallow waiting for him to respond. After a beat too long you could feel the disappointment weigh on your heart, making a move to remove your hands from his body. You couldn’t believe you were so foolish - of course he didn’t want you like that, you broke his heart - he was just being nice helping you out. 

Dennis’ hands tightened around yours before he pulled you closer to him and before you had a chance to apologise for making things awkward his lips were on yours. You felt yourself tense up briefly before relaxing into it, the hand that he wasn’t holding making its way into his hair in an attempt to pull Dennis closer. The two of you moved in sync, hands soon letting go of each other only to make their home on each other’s bodies. It was only when you could feel yourself needing a moment to catch your breath did the two of you separate, foreheads resting on each other.

“I love you,” Dennis felt breathless as he spoke. “I have loved you for years, there was never going to be anybody else for me but you.”

You didn’t respond, instead taking a page out of Dennis’ book and pulling him into a kiss. Before you knew it his hands were on your thighs, pulling you up on the counter - you ignored the way your head slammed into the upper cabinet - instead pulling Dennis closer between your legs. A part of you afraid that if you gave even a sliver of distance he would disappear.

The two of you didn’t move further than an intense make out session, aware of the fact your daughter was sleeping just down the hall and that Dennis had an early start the next morning. You wanted him to stay, to make up for all the time the two of you had missed, but you also knew that he was running on minimal sleep already and you didn’t want to be the reason he wasn’t focused saving lives tomorrow.

So Dennis left, not without an extra kiss at the door and the promise to let you know he was home safe. You felt light headed, like everything in your life was destined for this moment. You may have regretted leaving Dennis when you did but you also truly believed that there was no world where you and Dennis would be kept apart, that your leaving was just a detour in the life the two of you would share together.

a/n: guys... it's been done. I know it's shorter than the others but I really hope you guys have enjoyed reading this. Thank you so much for all the love and support you have all given me - I had read every single comment and tag and I just want you all to know how grateful I am and how much I have loved writing this for yall.

[saccharinespring]

WHITE TRASH WEDDING P.2

Part One | Part Three

PAIRING: Dennis Whitaker x Reader WORD COUNT: 7.9k SUMMARY: You and Dennis take a walk down memory lane. CW: teen pregnancy, wedding, heartbreak, angst, happy ending(?), reader has a child (not with Dennis), implied family abuse,

read on ao3 | masterlist

Dennis had sent you the location of the coffee shop two days after your conversation in the parking lot. It took you less than five minutes to respond and set up a time to meet. You organised with Phoebe’s pseudo-grandma (although at this point ‘Nanna’ is more related to her than your mother) to look after her for the day. You explained to her that an old friend had found you, assured her that you were safe and that was that. You appreciated that fact she didn’t press into your life, she knew you well enough now that you had a past you weren’t proud of. 

Your aunt’s girlfriend, who Phoebe had named Second Mum after the move to Pittsburgh, offered to drive Phoebe down to her mothers house and you couldn’t be more grateful. The last thing you wanted to do on the day you were going to meet the man you loved, who you abandoned, was stress about driving an hour out of town and back. It was moments like this where you didn’t regret the choices you made, knowing you have a support system you couldn’t have dreamed off and that Phoebe had a family who loved her for who she was.

With a kiss and a hug goodbye and a promise to pick Phoebe up in a few hours you let Second Mum take your girl. You double checked how you looked in the mirror that hung in the hall next to your front door. You didn’t want to overdo yourself but you wanted to look put together, show Dennis that you were okay despite it all, and maybe you wanted him to think you were beautiful like he did eight years ago. You stared at your reflection, the purple eyebags were still peeking through the concealer you applied an hour ago and you noticed wrinkles you swore didn’t exist the day before. You could try all you’d like but you couldn’t outrun ageing.

It took you five minutes of hyping yourself up before you left the house, and another ten to get out the car once you arrived. You were early, worried about finding parking you would say but anybody could see the nerves spilling out of you. You found yourself fidgeting as you waited out the front of the cafe, your eyes searching for Dennis whenever you heard footsteps nearby.

He arrived right on time, dressed in the same jeans he wore last time though the hoodie was left behind, instead he wore a plain black shirt. He smiled at you as he crossed the street and you could only bring yourself to give him a small wave back. Any sense of comfort was gone the moment he stood in front of you. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.”

The two of you stood awkwardly, neither wanting to make the first move. If you were younger you would have grabbed his hand without thinking, already halfway through the cafe door telling him what he should order and the newest gossip around town. This version of you, the older you who spent her teens changing diapers and breastfeeding, stands still. Waiting. You didn’t want to overstep, make him uncomfortable, he had the power here - even if he didn’t know that himself.

“Should we?” Dennis makes a motion to the front of the cafe and you nod, following along as he leads you through the door and to the counter. He didn’t glance at the board as he placed his order and you couldn’t help the shock spread across your face as the words “long black” left his mouth.

“Since when did you drink it black?” You questioned, after putting in your own order. You were glad Dennis didn’t pay for you, you knew there was a part of him that wanted to, but you couldn’t bear the thought of owing him anymore than you already did.

“Late nights at med school toughened me up.” It was a joke, well it was meant to be a joke, but neither of you laughed. Both of you were keenly aware of the fact that you could have known this if you stayed. That Dennis wasn’t that same boy you left.

You took a seat at a small table by the front window, grateful that you could use the excuse of people watching when things got awkward. Dennis sat across from you, hands tucked under the table. He was scared that if he didn’t hold them down they would reach out to you like he used to. You could feel his leg shaking under the table as you picked at your cuticles.

“So Pittsburgh?” Dennis begins the round of questioning. You knew it wasn’t what he really wanted to ask, but you were grateful he didn’t begin grilling you right off the bat. He was always gentle like that, always conscious of how everybody else was feeling. 

“Yeah, we moved about two years ago.” You didn’t know how to tell him why you moved, that you watched the person who took you in who didn’t need to die before your eyes. He could tell you were holding back, that something happened that brought you here, something you weren’t telling him.

“Where’d you go? W-when you left I mean.” You noticed how he stumbled over his words, despite the confidence he had seemed to gain in your years a part there was still that shy country boy underneath. Your drinks were placed in front of you and you took the time to gather your thoughts as you had a sip.

“Boston, you remember my aunt? The one my mum cut off?” You spoke, placing the warm mug back on the table. You watched as Dennis stared at his own drink, hands still under the table, making no move to take a sip.

“Yeah of course. How is she?” 

You could feel your heart do a flip in your chest because of course. Of course Dennis Whitaker, the boy who saved you more times you could count, remembered your aunt, who hadn’t seen in over a decade. Of course he would ask how she is, wanting everybody to be well.

“Uhm, she died, actually… breast cancer.” You could see the pity in his eyes, and you refused to make any further eye contact. Instead focusing on the drink in front of you.

“Oh I’m sorry, that must have been hard.” You nodded, you wouldn’t cry. You did you crying in the month after her passing and you knew that she wouldn’t want you to cry over her this many years later.

“Yeah it was, that’s why we moved to Pittsburgh, her girlfriend has family here… they’re actually looking after Phoebe right now.” You noticed the smile that came across Dennis’ face as you spoke of Phoebe and you wondered what kind of dad he would have been if he had the chance. You then hate yourself for the fact you are the reason he didn’t get the chance.

“That’s good, it sounds like you really found your home.” You nod. You really had found your home, people you could call your family.

“Yeah, I’m pretty grateful for them all.” 

There’s an awkward silence once again. The two of you know you’re just talking about the surface level topics, that he wants to know everything that happened over the past eight years, the good and the bad. Dennis wants to be included, to feel as though he was there too.

“I want to know more… I want to know why. The truth.”

Dennis stared you down as he spoke, you could see a red flush creep up the back of neck. He was never one to be confrontational, to ask things of people or put them out. You held his gaze for a moment before breaking it, eyes once again focusing on anything. The people outside, the dog tied up to a pole, the way the sun was shining behind white clouds. It was the start of spring, Phoebe would be turning nine soon.

“The truth?” You pause over your own words, you weren’t sure you even knew the truth. You knew the story you told yourself most days. That you didn’t want to hold him back, that you didn’t want to burden him, that you wanted more than to be a housewife on a farm. You knew those reasons weren’t the truth though, you knew it was more cowardly than that.

“I was scared. Scared of the future, scared of my feelings for you, scared I was going to mess up this tiny perfect being the same way my parents messed with me… I thought that leaving would fix it all, that I could, I don’t know, give her a future.” Dennis didn’t speak and you couldn’t find yourself able to stop now the words were out there.

“I left because I knew if I stayed I would regret it for the rest of my life, I just didn’t realise that I would regret leaving you as well.”

The words hit Dennis like a train, the implication of what you said buzzing around his mind. You regret leaving, but you would regret staying more. He couldn’t place how he felt, hurt by the fact you couldn’t see a future with him. Hurt that you felt he couldn’t give a future you craved, that you thought it would be easy to leave him. Like he was nothing to you.

“You could have told me this, I would have listened. We could have left together, be a family together. I was ready for that.” Dennis felt like he was on trial, trying to defend the life the two of you shared, trying to prove to you that you were wrong for leaving.

“I couldn’t burden you with that Dennis. I had already trapped you into a marriage with a child that wasn’t yours, I couldn’t bear to think of taking you away from your family - because I was a dumb teenager who thought there was more out there in the world.” You tried to make him understand that you were selfish, that you weren’t thinking about his wants and needs. Dennis only shook his head, whether or not he understood you, you couldn’t tell.

“I know you can’t understand, hell even I don’t understand it most days… but that’s the truth.” 

You watched as the cogs ticked over in Dennis’ mind, you knew you were asking too much of a man you deserved nothing from. He didn’t owe you understanding, he didn’t owe you forgiveness or anything of that kind. His hands finally moved from where they were locked under the table and grabbed his lukewarm coffee. You watched as he took a long sip, like it would give him some sort of inner strength to make it through this conversation.

“Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Okay, you’re right that I can’t understand it but I’ll try.”

You knew your mouth was stuck open, you knew that you shouldn’t be as shocked as you were. This was Dennis. Your Dennis. He would forgive you for every sin you committed without hesitation. It frightened you, the power you had over him. That despite the years of no communication, not knowing where you were, he was still forgiving you. 

You hated that you couldn’t hold back the tears, you hated that you still felt guilty for it all, you hated that within seconds he pulled his chair closer to yours and his hand was pressed against the back of your head. Petting your hair the same way he used to, the same way you do to Phoebe when she’s upset. You were thankful at least that there were only a few other people in the cafe as you tried to hold back sobs.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Dennis pulled you into his chest, the exact same way he did when you had originally told him you were pregnant. Whispering words of comfort in your ears. It made you feel dirty, you didn’t deserve this kindness, especially not from him. 

It took a few moments but the tears subsided and you pulled away from his hold, his hand lingered on your back for a moment before he pulled away as well, moving his chair back. Not as far as he was before but giving you enough space you could relax.

“I don’t deserve this… or you - why are you being so kind to me?” You hated that you could hear the insecurity in your voice, that despite how much you had grown deep down there was still a young girl who was so desperate to be loved and so afraid to be known.

“Because you’re you, you’re the girl who pushed my brother over when he called me a pansy… the girl who encouraged me to be a doctor even when everyone told me I wouldn’t make it. You’re the girl who I was bound to before I was born… I forgave you before I knew you.”

You couldn’t respond. You weren’t even sure you were breathing, that this whole conversation was real. Dennis Whitaker sat in front of you, forgiving you despite it all. You knew you were crying again, and despite the urge Dennis held himself back. He didn’t need to crowd you, he knew you just needed to be for a moment.

Dennis scanned the cafe as you wiped tears from your eyes, there were eyes on the two of you and he couldn’t help but kick himself that he chose a cafe that most of the ER staff visited when they had the chance. He knew that gossip would spread, that the barrister would mention it to a nurse who would tell another and soon Trinity would be interrogating him for the entire afternoon.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Dennis was already out of his seat by the time he finished his sentence, all you could do was nod and follow him. You felt the stares around you, you knew they were wondering what was happening with the girl who couldn’t stop crying. The sun was still shining when you walked out the door and you let Dennis lead you away, you didn’t really mind where you went at this point, as long as you were next to Dennis.

Your mind was still reeling as you walked down streets you swore you had never walked down before. You didn’t know how to continue after Dennis’ declaration, how to be around him despite it all.

As if Dennis could read your mind, he changed the subject. He asked about your work, something neutral. Something neither of you could get tongue tied over. He watched as you rambled about how you got into social work, how your aunt’s girlfriend helped you through your school before offering you a position. How much joy you experienced when you realised you could make a real difference in a person’s life, that your experiences weren’t just a mile long list of regrets but teaching moments you could offer to others.

Dennis couldn’t help but admire how far you’ve come. He remembered the struggles you went through when you were teens, he knew your parents were overbearing beyond what was normal and that your brothers weren’t the kindest to you. Looking at you now he couldn’t imagine you as that young girl, you were stronger now, less brash. You were always a fighter, however as a teen that meant explosive nights and an inability to hold your tongue. You were more refined now, the spirit still there just tamed. Something he never dreamed you would be.

His mind drifted to your little girl, he knew her birthday was coming up soon and he couldn’t stop himself as he daydreamed about being there for her birthday. If you would let him. He would understand if after today you never wanted to see him again, it would hurt, but at least now he knows you’re okay… more than okay. You’re happy. The kind of happy you never were back in Broken Bow. While there was a part of him that was upset that you couldn’t find that with him, he was happy you managed to find it regardless. 

You hadn’t said a word in over a minute but it was like Dennis was in another world. His steps were in time with yours, eyes trained to your face - you could tell he had stopped focusing on what you were saying a while ago. Not out of boredom or disinterest but something else was taking his attention.

“Dennis, you good?” Without much thought you placed a hand on his arm, stopping the both of you as you neared a local park. You watched him intently as his eyes returned to focus, as if he was taking you in for the first time, like he had been in a dream up until now.

“Yeah sorry, just stuck in my thoughts… It feels weird to be here.” You understood what he meant. You had never thought you would see Dennis again, let alone walk the streets of Pittsburgh with him, or earn his forgiveness.

“I get it… it’s a lot to have your long lost wife appear out of the blue.” It was a badly timed joke, honestly you didn’t even find it funny, but you watched as Dennis began to laugh and soon you were too. It was as if the absurdity of the situation had finally settled over the both of you, the realisation that you guys were still married, that your history was still the present. That you both loved each other and yet couldn’t be more a part.

So the two of you laughed, it wasn’t for long but it was concerning enough for strangers to stop and look over. They watched as the two of you continued to laugh, tears in the corner of your eyes and his hand resting on your shoulder. You felt like a kid again, the kind of giddy you got when you stayed out late with friends, knowing you were headed towards trouble but unable to stop following the thrill of it all.

The two of you managed to calm yourself, small giggles still escaping the both of you as you forced yourself to continue on. You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever, for that to be the final moment between Dennis and you, something positive to replace the pain of leaving. You knew however your conversation wasn’t over, that there was too much to discuss, too much to unpack. Too much time had passed between the two of you, and you wanted to know everything that happened to him during it.

“So you went to medical school in the end?” The two of you had found a bench to sit on, the sun was beaming down on the both of you, only slightly shaded by the trees above. There was a playground in front of you and you watched as a young girl played with her mother, chasing her around the tanbark.

“Yeah, it almost didn’t happen but I got there in the end.” You could only stare at Dennis, hoping your silence would urge him on to continue. You wanted to know everything about him, every thought he had since you left, every action he took.

“After you left I kind of fell apart? I guess… I struggled a lot, to find meaning in it all. I was angry and hurt and couldn’t believe you abandoned me.” Dennis watched as you didn’t even attempt to defend your actions, only look down at your hands as he spoke. Part of you knew that you leaving wouldn’t leave him without scars but you never imagined it impacting him as much as it did. 

“Anyways one day I looked around and realised that it was stupid to waste my life away over it. If I didn’t achieve my goals it wouldn’t change your life, wouldn’t bring you back or bring you pain, it would only hurt me. So I buckled down, applied for med school and by some miracle got in, packed my bags and left.” Dennis couldn’t look at you, couldn’t stomach the fact that at some point in his life he wanted to hurt you the way you hurt him, make you understand the pain you left him with. 

“My family were happy for me but hated that I was leaving but I think they understood I couldn’t stay, not without you there… next thing I know I’m working in The Pitt about to become a resident and you walk in with Phoebe all grown up… and everything I felt, all the hurt and pain and anger was gone.” 

You bit your lip as thoughts raced around your head. You wondered what Dennis’ family thought of you, if they blamed you for him leaving them. You watched as Dennis played with his fingers, eyes still unable to make contact with yours. You wished you could take away the anxiety that plagued him, that you could change it all and show him you loved him. 

“I’m proud of you.” Dennis’ head whipped up after you spoke, as if he couldn’t have ever imagined you saying those words to him. 

“I really am… I regret leaving you I do but I am glad you made a name for yourself, find your passion again. You were meant to be a doctor and I already know you're one of the best there is.” 

It was Dennis’ turn for tears to appear in his eyes and you did your best to comfort him without overstepping. You allowed yourself to move closer so you were now thigh to thigh and you offered him your hand to hold. It felt special, that your words could have such an impact on him. You felt his hand take yours, slotting between your fingers like it was made for you. 

You were certain now Dennis was made for you, that God put him on this earth just for you. He was your other half in every lifetime, you had no doubt about it now, and you felt your heart shatter once again as you thought of the pain you caused him. He may have forgiven you but there was no guarantee that he would want you in his life, he might just be seeking closure before separating from your life. You couldn’t blame him if he did, you knew you didn’t deserve that kind of luck, the kind of love he was willing to give you all those years ago.

The two of you continued a light conversation, hands still intertwined despite the fact Dennis had stopped crying a while ago. You didn’t dare move yours, scared that if you even flinched slightly the spell would be broken and it all would be over. You didn’t touch the more serious subjects, like the fact you kept his last name, that you still considered yourself married if anyone were to ask.

Instead you talked to him about Phoebe, filling him in on the years he missed. You told him about how smart she is, how she refuses to be pushed around, how she took her first steps the only day you weren’t around and you cried about it for months. You told him about the fact she was currently obsessed with superheroes and genuinely believes that people have superpowers, even you. He asked about her likes and dislikes and you provided in depth answers most people would find boring, but Dennis could only relish in. Even though he missed out on all of these moments he felt as though he was right there with you as you talked about her first day of school and you were called into the principal's office not even an hour later. 

“What about her father, do you have any contact with him?” Dennis regretted asking the question the moment it left his mouth. He watched as your eyes dim, the smile drops from your face and the hand he had been holding slipped from his. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed, you hadn’t even talked about Phoebe’s father when you were pregnant. 

“I did, for a bit… I never let him meet her - we just exchanged texts mainly but uh… he died five years ago… fentanyl overdose apparently. I didn’t poke around too much.” You hated to speak about him, hated that Phoebe was denied another father figure in her life. He wasn’t a bad man, just a dumb kid when you got pregnant and then caught up in the wrong crowd. You wondered if maybe you had let him in more if you could have saved him but you stopped entertaining that thought a while ago. It didn’t help anyone.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Dennis couldn’t stop himself as he reached for your hand again, maybe it was more for him than you at this point, but he needed to feel you. He heeded you to know that he was here, that you had somebody.

“Yeah, Phoebe ended up asking about him after that, she was wondering why all her friends had dads and I had to explain why she didn’t… it was a hard time for but she got through it eventually.” 

“She takes after you then, brave and strong.” 

You chuckled at Dennis’ words, shaking your head in disbelief. He saw you in a way nobody else did and it made your skin crawl. Not because you didn’t like it but rather you liked it too much, the idea that somebody saw you as strong. He wasn’t wrong about Phoebe however, she was the strongest girl you knew.

“How did he find you though? Not to overstep, it’s just… I tried getting in contact with you for like two years after you left but could never find you.” Dennis hated that he was being so nosy, you had already opened yourself up to him beyond a reasonable amount but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to know everything, not to hold it against you but to understand where you were now.

“Through my brother, you know Randy?” Dennis nodded. Randy was the second youngest and closest to you in age and even though you had issues with them all it was worse with him. Playful sibling teasing often led to hard blows and cruel words when he was involved. 

“He actually found me, I still don’t really know how but he was visiting Boston and just appeared in front of me. Thankfully Phoebe wasn’t around… but he ended up returning back to Broken Bow and told my parents about me - I guess you must have left because the word spread and everybody knew. Before I had even realised what happened her father was messaging me from an unknown number.” 

“And your parents?” Dennis felt as if he already knew the answer, that there was no way they kept in contact with you. You had let them down in more ways than one in their eyes.

“I got an email from my mother after that, it was long and mean but it was basically just her disowning me… which shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did considering I left her, but I guess I felt sorry for Phoebe, that she wouldn’t get to know her grandparents or uncles” You shrugged as you trailed off, despite the fact you could tell Dennis was fighting back anger next to you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore about your past. 

You were hurt at first and angry at your mother, but eventually you found yourself caring less. Why would you want somebody in your life you clearly didn’t love you, who didn’t want you for who you were. 

“That’s so fucked up… now I don’t feel as bad for ripping out her roses that one time.” You couldn’t hold back the laughter as Dennis spoke, the memory of the preteen versions of you in the middle of the night tearing up your mothers garden. It was after an argument you had with her where she locked you in your room, despite you begging to be let out. You can’t remember what the two of you were arguing about anymore but you remembered the way Dennis had rode his bike over in the middle of the night and helped you climb out your window before enacting your revenge. 

The two of you were caught within a couple of minutes, both of your pajamas covered in soil and hands cut from the thorns of the rose bushes. You still remember the fear you experienced as your mother screamed at the two of you, despite the fact you had told Dennis to run. He refused, instead taking your hand and remaining by your side, even after your mother called his father. He stood tall, hand linked with yours until his father arrived and took him away.

Both of you were punished harshly for that, but neither of you could find yourselves regretting your moment of rebellion. You learnt after that to keep your life a secret, to go along with whatever your mother wanted before sneaking out behind her back, and he would always be there. To pick you up whenever you needed, to offer you cover and sanctuary, to be your best friend.

“So you still have my car?” Dennis was teasing you now, the tension of your history broken down brick by brick. You weren’t back to normal, nowhere near, but progress had been made.

“Prue is my true love, always reliable.” You joke back. You had named his car the day he got it, back when the red paint was shiny and the tires were brand new with all hubcaps attached. He questioned your choices but you simply explained that she was a Prue (he found out soon after your affinity for naming cars and people after the Charmed sisters). 

Dennis could only let out a laugh as he sank further into you, your shoulders pressed together, knees banging into each other. He felt like a teenager again, like the weight of the world never pressed down onto his shoulders. He felt like he had a future again, one that was so close to his past. He wished he had stopped loving you over the years, that he was able to let you go, but in this moment he couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t. He loved you the moment he saw you and he would love you until he died, he was certain of that.

Your light hearted conversation was cut off by your phone ringing and you apologised as you rushed to answer it. You recognised the ring tone as the one Phoebe chose especially for Nanna and while you knew she would be okay you weren’t expecting her to call. You walked away slightly from the bench, leaving Dennis to stare after you as you spoke into your phone, your voice hushed but not worried. 

It wasn’t long before you returned, a sheepish look on your face, like you were about to break his heart all over again.

“I’m really sorry Dennis, that was Phoebe, she wants me to come pick her up… apparently I have been away for too long.” Dennis could only nod as he stood up from the bench, wiping his hands on his pants despite the fact they weren’t dirty or sweaty.

“No of course, I know how she feels… being away from you is torture.” Dennis prayed that you would laugh, that it wouldn’t be too soon to make light of it. He let out a sigh of relief as you giggled, rolling your eyes and shoving him lightly.

“Hah Hah, I forgot how funny you were… but I really do need to go, it’s an hour drive to get there and Phoebe is not a patient girl.” You found yourself stuck in your goodbye, unable to decide if you should hug him goodbye or just walk off. Thankfully, Dennis decided for you by pulling you into his chest.

It was awkward at first, sure you two had held hands and collapsed into each other but this was different, this was a hug. Not out of necessity or comfort but out of want and need. The need to remind each other that you both were real. 

“I’ll text you later, maybe we could get coffee again?” You suggested it this time, you tried to ignore the hopefulness in your voice and hoped that Dennis didn’t recognise how desperate you were to see him again.

“Yeah, I would love to.” It was a simple response but it left your cheeks flushed as you walked away, waving him goodbye as you took your first steps. You allowed yourself a glance every couple of metres and despite the fact he was walking the opposite direction you found yourself making eye contact with him more than once.

By the time Phoebe was asleep in bed you were exhausted. You had meant to pick her up and take her straight home but of course it was never that simple with Nanna and before you knew it you had a full stomach that hurt from laughing too hard and an hour long drive home in the dark. Nanna had insisted the two of you slept over but you politely declined, after the day you had all you wanted was to crash in your own bed. Thoughts of Dennis to help you drift off to sleep.

And that was the plan when you finally managed to get Phoebe asleep, the door opened just a crack in case she needed you in the middle of the night, but you were stuck with a sense of nostalgia and suddenly sleep was no longer an option. It took you a couple minutes of rummaging around in the cupboard you use to shove random things in, but you finally found it. It felt silly that most of your childhood treasures were kept in a shoebox that had seen better days, surely something as precious as these deserve a better resting place.

You snuck the box back into your bedroom and sat with it in the middle of bed. You hadn’t opened it in a while, not since your aunt passed, too afraid to relive these memories without her support. After seeing Dennis however, something had changed, you craved these memories… to see a version of you and Dennis before the pain.

The top of the box was filled with more recent items, many of Phoebe’s baby items (including her first pair of slippers and you could almost cry at seeing how small her feet used to be) and a program for your aunt’s funeral. You found your nametag from the supermarket you worked at once you moved to Boston and your very first paycheck. You never cashed it in, and you could almost laugh at how little you earned back then, despite it feeling like a millions bucks.

As you dug deeper you found a letter from your first boyfriend, well less of a letter and more of a note passed to you in the middle of freshman year English. A simple ‘you’re cute’ written in chicken scratch that made you feel like a diamond in the rough. You found all the photos of you and your high school friends, sitting in the back of some older man’s pick up truck, and you shudder to think of Phoebe being as reckless as you. There was a report card that contained the first A you ever received, after lots of help from Dennis, and a comment from a teacher that made you believe you could be something after all.

Your hope started fading as the further you looked into the box, the photo you were desperately seeking still did not make an appearance. You found ticket stubs to movies that you definitely didn’t watch, sneaking into the R rated horror movie instead, and a friendship bracelet that you had made for Dennis back in middle school. He refused to wear it, saying it was too girly and you remember throwing it at his head before you ran off crying. The very next day at school the pink twine was wrapped around his wrist and all was forgiven, you weren’t sure how you managed to hold ownership over it now. 

And then finally, there it was. At the bottom of the cardboard box, slightly bent at the edges and finger marks from careless handling, but it was there and it was beautiful. It was a photo your mother had taken (despite the fact you threw out most of the things she had haunted you could never bring yourself to throw out this), it was taken the day Phoebe was born. You were laying down on the hospital bed, your hair full of sweat and matted down to your scalp. Your face was a deep red and splotchy, evident that you had been crying non-stop for 12 hours, and in your arms was the most precious thing. Phoebe’s eyes were closed, face seemingly content, swaddled up in a pink blanket, baby hair sticking up in an unruly fashion. You could see in your eyes the fear and the love you held in that moment but the most important thing was the person by your side. Dennis was in his old high school track uniform, eyes red from crying and he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other placed on Phoebe’s head, almost swallowing it whole.

He wasn’t looking at you or the camera. Instead his eyes were trained on the girl in front of you, there was no fear, no anxiety. Just unconditional love. 

Looking at the photo now you realise how silly you were, how wrong you were to leave. Dennis wasn’t trapped, you didn’t force him to have a child. He wanted it, and he wanted Phoebe, he wanted you. It pained you to think of the life the two of you could have lived, the possibility of having kids together, of raising a family in Broken Bow on his family farm. 

Without a second thought you snapped a quick photo of the image and sent it to Dennis. You deliberated on what to write underneath, settling on a simple - “taking a walk down memory lane and thought you would like to see this”. You put your phone faced down on your bedside table, anxious to think of his response. Maybe he didn’t want to see it, to be reminded of the past and what could have been. Maybe he was just being nice when he said he would see you again.

Your anxiety spiral was cut short when not even a minute later your phone vibrated, you wished you could say you played it cool and took your time to check to see if Dennis had responded but you had grabbed your phone before it had even finished vibrating. It was from Dennis. 

The first message was a simple heart reaction to the photo, and you watched as the bubble appeared and disappeared, waiting for a reply. It wasn’t until the bubbles were gone for a full minute that you gave up hope that he was going to respond beyond the reaction. You let out a sigh and placed your phone back into your lap, hands instead grabbing the other photos you found. There was a photo of a young Dennis, arm wrapped around the shoulders of young you. The two of you couldn’t have been older than 5, and you were wearing matching denim overalls, dirt covered over both of your faces. It was taken on Dennis’ farm, there was no world that your mother would ever let you be that dirty around her, and the two of you had “helped” his father with feeding the pigs that day. You tried to remember ever owning a pair of overalls at that age, you have distinct memories of your mother refusing to let you wear pants until you had hit puberty, of course her only reasoning for that was to make sure you were harder to access.

You stared at the photo closely, trying to make out any other details, and that's when you noticed the embroidery on the front of the overalls pocket. Dennis’ pocket had a simple D.W embroidered in gold thread, while your’s had your initials stitched in pink. It was funny how memories worked, how a simple flash of colour or scent can bring you directly in the middle of them. Or how a simple stitch can remind you of a moment in time you thought long forgotten.

You remember it more clearly now, how you arrived on the farm in a pink cotton dress, white socks and white pleather mary janes. You remember how Dennis’ mom took one look at you and let out a laugh before pulling you into the house, telling you there was no way you would keep those clean for more than 5 minutes. 

She had pulled the overalls out from a linen cupboard, they were slightly too big for you and you had to believe now that they were probably meant for one of Dennis’ brothers. She had held them up to your body and you can remember the anxiety you felt, the thought of your mother catching you in such an outfit would surely send her over the edge. It took Dennis’ mother ten minutes to stitch your initials on the front, you had picked the pink thread not because it was your favourite but you hoped that your mother would be less inclined to lecture on the overalls if they were slightly girly. 

Dennis had returned with his brothers from feeding the chickens by the time his mother gave you one of his old shirts and helped you into the overalls. There wasn’t much she could do about your white mary janes, but you didn’t mind if they got ruined, they were uncomfortable and pinched your toes. You remember the smile that he had when he realised the two of you were in matching outfits and it didn’t take long before he had grabbed your hand and pulled you back outside.

You were pulled out of your memory by your phone vibrating in your lap, this time not just once but repeatedly. It was Dennis calling, there was no contact photo for him, just his initials displayed across your screen. You bit your lip before reaching down and answering the call, neither of you spoke at first, all that could be heard was the sound of your breaths, slightly out of time with each other.

“Hey, I uh… I saw the photo you sent and - this is probably silly - but I thought I would call you instead… texting seemed too hard.” Dennis’ voice was soft, just above a whisper. You wondered if he was living with somebody, if he had a roommate or maybe even a partner he was trying to let sleep.

“Oh… was it too much? To send the photo I mean - I hope it wasn’t an overstep-” You felt the panic rise again. You never used to feel this anxious when speaking with Dennis, in fact most times he was the only one who you ever seemed to relax with. 

“No!” Dennis had cut your rambling off, slightly louder than he had been previously. As if realising his volume he became quiet again. “No, no you didn’t overstep, it was actually a nice surprise… I didn’t realise you had kept that photo.” 

There was a pause in the conversation, as there often was when it was your turn to speak. You often find yourself trying to find the right words, the right way to explain why you did what you did, why you held onto the photo, why you sent it.

“Yeah, it’s a favourite of mine… I guess I like to look back at it and see how happy we were…” You trailed off, hands reaching out to pick the photo back up again. You notice now that your wedding rings were on display in the photo, it made your heart lurch.

“Yeah we were… for a bit.” The words hang in the air, neither of you ready to speak. You were trapped in the thoughts of what could have been meanwhile Dennis couldn’t stop thinking about the ring on your finger.

“You know there is still a question I have… and I know I already have asked a lot today but I can’t get this one out of my mind.” You hum in response, letting Dennis know that you were okay for him to ask, but not quite sure if you were willing to answer.

“You kept my name… I guess I was just wondering why? Trinity told me that you never corrected anyone when they called you Mrs either…” 

Dennis could hear you take a sharp breath and let it out with almost a whistle. He was worried he had overstepped, that he pushed you too far. 

“I guess… I guess I kept it because it was the only thing left I had that connected me to you, that connected you to Phoebe…” You paused as you brought your thumb to your mouth, teeth digging into the nail bed you had been trying to repair from your last attack on it. “I know it’s selfish, to keep that part of you without sharing anything back but… I don’t know - I think there’s also a part of me that likes knowing that I’m a Whitaker, that I am not my parents' daughter anymore.”

“It’s not selfish.” Dennis responded. “I… I like that you kept it, that you let Phoebe keep it - I know I’m not her dad but I guess I like knowing that there was a time that I was… or I could have been.” 

“You would have been an amazing dad, she would have been lucky to have you… I’m sorry that I denied you that.” 

Dennis could feel his eyes sting at your words, at the notion of him being Phoebe’s dad, at the knowledge he would never get to be. He knew it would be easier to hate you, to curse you out for leaving and ruining that dream, he also knew he never would. There was nothing you could do that would ever make him hate you. 

Dennis says your same softly and you hum in response, eyes trained on the photo still in your hands.

“I’m really glad I found you again.”

“I’m really glad too.”

The two of you said your goodnights after that, promising to organise another coffee date the next time the two of you were free. There was a part of you that was tempted to ask him if he wanted Phoebe to come along too but you were also aware that this thing with Dennis was new, that there was no predicting if you would stay in each other's life… as much as you hoped you would. 

You packed the memories and trinkets that were spilled out over your comforter back into the cardboard box, sliding it under your bed rather than deep in the closet this time. You allowed yourself to snap a photo of the image of you and Dennis in your matching overalls before changing it to his contact photo and sending it to him as well. You didn’t wait to see if he responded before turning your phone on silent and placing it on the charger, and forcing yourself to try and sleep.

a/n: thank you all so much for the love and support you gave me on the last part!! I feel so blessed… I wasn't sure if I was going to write another part but after all your guys kind words here it is! I may do another one as well as I feel like their story is not over yet but also I have a million assignments to do… so I should probably focus on that. I also have to admit that i HATE writing children which is why you have noticed I have cut out more and more of Phoebe's lines lol…

[saccharinespring]

The Five Ways Jack Makes Amends (jack abbot x reader)

PAIRING: Jack Abbot x Reader WORD COUNT: 4.8k (i did not mean to make it this long sorry) SUMMARY: Jack Abbot is ready to do whatever it takes to make you forgive him. (technically a sequel to Over It but can be read as a standalone) CW: ex!jack abbot/nurse!reader, jack being so sweet and you being so tough on him (as deserved), pet name sweetheart used a lot, nsfw, PIV smut, reader has sisters and they're kind of the worst

read on ao3 | masterlist

1. The Gifts

Jack’s grand plans of making it up to you started the very next day… or afternoon you should say - just before your next shift. You were ready to go, a slight pep in your step from the knowledge that you and Jack are figuring things out, and as you opened your front door you noticed it. It was a medium sized gift bag with a tag that read “i love you - j” and inside it was carrying a large candle, your favourite sent, the same candle that was discontinued months ago and you couldn’t find anywhere. The fact that Jack had remembered your favourite candle and managed to track it down made your heart skip a beat, but you were soon reminded of the time and placed it on the entry table by your door before locking it shut and heading into work, a little thankful that Jack would not be on that night.

The next day it was the same, a medium sized gift bag waiting for you at your front door - this time however inside was a tupperware container with what looked like a homemade meal, the note including the usual “I love you -j” as well as heating instructions. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Jack Abbot had actually cooked for you before taking the container and placing it in your fridge to save for your dinner when you returned after your shift. You also made a mental note that Jack had even adapted the recipe for you to replace the vegetables you despised.

It soon became routine, every time you opened your door for your shift there was another gift awaiting you - from simple ones such as your favourite candy or body lotion to more expensive ones like the gaming console you had been wanting to buy or a necklace you were sure cost more than your weekly paycheck. After the third week it was beginning to be a bit much - you had thanked Jack for each of them, still not relenting on giving in yet. You appreciated the gifts but there was a part of you that had begun to feel like Jack was just trying to buy your love, and you told him as such after a more stressful shift.

“Jack, I really do appreciate it but you have to stop it with the gifts.” The two of you were standing outside the hospital, the sun rising over the buildings on the horizon. You were leaning against the brick wall as he stood in front of you, hands absentmindedly playing with the hem of your scrubs top.

“I made a promise sweetheart.” There was a cheeky grin on his face, as if he knew exactly what he was doing - it made you scoff.

“Jack, if you want me back you can’t buy my love… you have to actually prove it.” 

You watched as words sank in, the way his smile slowly dropped and his hands stilled. You grabbed his hands and gave him a small smile, ducking your head to meet his eyes where they had dropped. 

“I’m not saying I don’t love the gifts because I do, but we can’t go back to how we were just on gifts alone.” Jack simply nodded at your words, his mind seemingly elsewhere. “Now walk me home, I’m tired.”

So he did, walking you up to your front door and once again leaving you without a kiss - however you did place a small one to his cheek before ducking inside and shutting the door. Jack stood there for a moment waiting to hear the deadbolt lock, and once it had he allowed himself to take his leave - mind now running through all the other ways he could make you forgive him.

2. The Schedule

You didn’t notice it at first, it wasn’t unusual for you and Jack to work the same shifts, considering he worked nearly every night but there were times in the past when the two of you missed each other. That’s why it took you two weeks to realise that he was doing it on purpose - you knew Jack had a hand in the night shift schedule and clearly he had been taking a bit more control with it. 

It wasn’t just the schedule changes, it was the breaks you were somehow gifted as well - something that never occurred during a shift in the ED. You were sure that Jack had something to do with it, seeing as he always had a cup of coffee (that definitely did not come from the hospital) and a protein bar waiting for you in the break room. You weren’t complaining, not at all, you welcomed the break - enjoyed the five minutes of peace you were gifted.

You also enjoyed that you and Jack were working together again, you forgot how in sync the two of you could be - always predicting what the other would say or need - you were his favourite nurse for a reason and not just because you looked hot in your scrubs. You also enjoyed working alongside Jack as he always chose the best cases, and since he always chose you to work with him, you got the best cases too - no more drunk idiots trying to feel you up or men coming in crying of cramps that were just from gas. 

Soon working every shift together also turned into Jack picking you up and dropping you off, he justified it by saying that he was already there every day to drop off a gift (which he did tone down - now opting for flowers and handwritten cards) so you might as well join him on the way. You found yourself relaxing into being around him again, enjoying his company rather than trying to run from it. You were still adamant that you weren’t ready for the two of you to be physical yet (at least not in that capacity) but you did allow him to reach over the console and rest a hand on your knee, just low enough that it was totally innocent.

The other benefit of having the same schedule as Jack meant on the rare occasions you had a night off you had a lovely designated driver to pick you up from the bar - where you had ended up grabbing drinks with the girls of The Pitt. You had blamed Princess for the way you were seeing double, the woman was far more tolerant of alcohol than you, and you were a fool to try and keep up with her. So of course when Jack came to pick you up, you needed a little hand getting back into the car - the other girl's wolf whistling as Jack carried you bridal style to his truck.

“M’so lucky.” You were slurring your words, as your hand went to play with Jack’s curls. He had tucked you into the passenger seat of his car and was currently en route to drop you off at your apartment. 

“It’s not luck Sweetheart, you deserve it.” Jack let out a small laugh as the hand you brought up to his head flopped against his skull - certain that you were unaware that the relaxing strokes you had been intending to give were more like little slaps. 

Once the two of you had arrived at your home Jack helped you remove your makeup and brush your teeth before tucking you into bed, and instead of simply sneaking out Jack stayed - setting up a space on your couch (he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to move faster than you were ready for) and keeping a keen ear out for any sounds coming from your room, just in case you needed him. 

You would never admit it, but you were certain you had slept better than night with Jack in the next room than you had the entire time you had alone.

3. The Sisters

You loved your sisters - you really did - and if anybody asked you, you would tell them that living so far away from them is painful, that part however would be a lie. You loved your sisters but they were also the only people who knew exactly how to get under your skin and make you feel like you were failing at life. It didn’t help that they all had the exact same definition of success - marriage, house and kids all by 30 - something you had failed spectacularly at achieving. However, there were only so many family vacations and holidays you could miss before you had to give and finally allow your three older sisters to visit you in Pittsburgh.

You were thankful that the trio had decided to stay at a hotel - although the comments about how tiny your apartment was and how it was borderline inhumane to have even one person live there stung - and you were blessed enough that your schedule only allowed you to have one night off to spend with them. So you had invited them out for dinner and a restaurant that you had never bothered to try, usually your dinner was breakfast at a 24/7 cafe which means a fancy meal at a restaurant with cloth tablecloths felt a little over the top for you. You had dressed up nicely still, you didn’t want to give your sisters any other reason to start picking you apart - you already knew that your current love life and your work was enough ammo, you didn’t need to add your looks to it as well.

The night started off well, the four of you reminiscing over the kind of hijinks you all got up to (or more accurately - they were reminiscing you were being reminded of all the times they would lock you in your room or trick you into doing something embarrassing in front of your crush) but it was nice, the way it always is when you haven’t seen family in a long time. But then the comments started seemingly innocent at first - asking about your life - before slowly turning into something a little more twisted - like why you can’t seem to keep a guy or when you were going to actually settle down instead of playing nurse. You had to remind them that you weren’t playing nurse, you were a nurse and you helped save peoples lives (they all had a good laugh at that one).

You were beginning to regret not taking Jack up on his offer of joining you at the dinner. He was more than aware enough of how your sisters would make you feel and he wanted to be there to help you through it, but you had insisted that it wouldn’t be that bad. Oh how wrong you were.

It was right as dessert was being brought out that you saw him, walking through the doors looking like a million bucks. The scrubs and uniform were traded for a pair of well fitting slacks and a button up shirt that had the first couple of buttons undone, so a peek of his chest was visible. If you weren’t adamant in waiting until you were 100% sure he wouldn’t hurt you again you were certain you would have ripped that shirt off his body before he had sat down and given the whole restaurant a show.

“Hey Sweetheart, I’m sorry I’m late, there was an MVA.” You could only smile lightly, eyes too busy focusing on the shocked faces of your sisters as Jack lent down to press a kiss to your cheek, using the moment to whisper in your ear. “Thought you could use some back up.”

You felt your cheeks flush as Jack pulled a chair up next to yours, arm immediately coming to rest around the back of your chair, fingers playing with your hair not even acknowledging your sisters yet. You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked, his hair was a little longer than usual which was insanely sexy and his hazel eyes were trained on you, trailing up and down your body.

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes snapped to your eldest sister, who you had the most strained relationship with - a ten year age gap will do that to siblings.

“Oh sorry where are my manners,” Jack finally turned to your sisters, a smirk etched onto his face. “I’m Doctor Jack Abbot, the man who is desperately trying to date your sister - although she is not making it easy to win her over.” 

He knew what he was doing, he was showing you off - letting your sisters know that whatever notions they had about you were wrong. That you weren’t settled down yet because you couldn’t hold a man, you weren’t settled down because there were no men good enough for you. You felt yourself fall a little bit in love with him all over again as he continued the conversation with your sisters, telling them about how accomplished you were and how lucky he was that you were willing to even give him a chance. 

That night after you had said goodbye to your sisters (who were suddenly a lot less willing to pick on your life when you had a hot doctor fawning all over you) you let Jack take you home, and when you arrived at your door instead of a simple goodnight you leant in and gave him a kiss. A real kiss, not just on the cheek. It wasn’t an invitation for him to come inside - he knew that - but it was progress. A sign that he was on the right track.

4. The Date

It had been six months since Jack had begged for your forgiveness; six months of his nonstop attempts to win you over and make you fall in love with him all over again and he was pretty certain that it had all been working. After the kiss you gave him a month or so ago when your sisters were in town he could feel your walls coming down, as you were more receptive to his advances - allowing him to kiss you goodnight more often than not.

In celebration of the six months and partially to make up for the fact he ended it before you could celebrate your one year anniversary Jack organised a date, the kind of date that would really make or break where the two of you went from here. He was willing to wait a million years for you to forgive him, if he believed that you would, but he also knew there was no point chasing after you if you could never get over how he hurt you. He was optimistic though that tonight would end up with you and him moving forward in your relationship rather than backwards.

So he bought you a dress and had it delivered to your door (along with a pair of heels that he knew you had been eyeing off) with a note telling you when to be ready by and called in a few favors from friends and set up the perfect date. He had arrived at yours perfectly on time and he swore that he got a semi when you had opened the door, decked out in the outfit he had picked along with the jewellery he had gifted you in the past. Your makeup was simple, except for the smudge black eyeliner around your eyes that made it impossible to not get lost in them and your hair was styled to perfection. If he hadn’t planned the perfect date he would have said “fuck it”, ordered take out and fucked you right then and there.

You were fairing any better, seeing Jack in a suit had you feeling something you hadn’t felt before, the type of lust that made you want to be bent over right in the middle of the street and have everybody see how lucky you were. Instead you took Jack’s hand and followed him to his car, allowing him to take you on his so called “perfect date” while desperately trying to ignore the wetness that was growing between your legs.

The date was truly perfect, Jack having managed to clear out the entire aquarium allowing the two of you to walk along the tanks as slowly as you’d like before you arrived at a small candlelit table next to the sharks. There was a string quartet off in the corner, and a waiter that had been the perfect balance of charming and respectful and you couldn’t even fathom how Jack had managed all of this. The two of you enjoyed your dinner and by the time you had finished and thought the date was over Jack told you he had one more surprise.

“It better not be a ring.” Jack had only let out a laugh at your comment, reassuring you that when he proposed it wouldn’t be like this - you ignored the way your heart stuttered over the use of “when” and not “if”.

Jack had led you back to his car, buckling you in once again, pressing a small kiss to your lips before moving back to the driver's side. You had assumed you were off to another secret location so you couldn’t hide the shock and confusion as you pulled up to Jack’s house. You didn’t have a chance to question him before he was out of the car and opening your door - leading you up the steps and through the door, hands now covering your eyes.

You stumbled along his hallway, still blinded by his hands before you were stopped by Jack, one of his hands grabbing you at your hips to still you. He didn’t say a word before he removed the other hand and told you to open your eyes, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight before you.

There were candles all over the living room, and where the couch used to live there was a fluffy rug with blankets laid on top, but that wasn’t what took your breath away, no that was reserved for the hundreds of photos of you and jack strung up around the room - each one different. You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed as you realised that this room told the whole story of your relationship, and there were photos in there that you didn’t know had been taken.

“Oh Jack…” Your eyes welled up with tears as you turned to look at him, just to see he was already staring at you, eyes glassy.

“Sweetheart, I know that I hurt you before but I want you to know that I’m all in - you are my lungs and my heart, you keep me alive when I thought I would never feel that way again… I love you more than I thought possible.” 

You struggled to find the words, instead you pulled him into you - your lips crashing into his and hands running up from his biceps to his hair.

“I love you too.” You breathed out as you pulled away, thumbs coming up to brush the tears off his cheeks.

5. The Make-Up Sex

You were stripped naked and your back was pressed against the furry rug that had been laid out on Jack’s floor, who was currently kneeling above you, arm resting beside your head as his other hand toyed with your nipple and his thick cock resting on your thigh.

“I’ve missed this so much sweetie, missed the noises you would make when I played with you.” Jack whispered into your ear as he made a mess of your neck - alternating between sucking, licking and biting, each one making you whine and moan - begging for more. He had been teasing you for at least thirty minutes now, slowly edging you closer and closer to a real orgasm but always pulling back at the last minute.

“I need you to tell me what you want, tell me how bad you need me baby.” Your fingers dug in deeper on his biceps and you revelled in the way you felt his cock twitch by your thigh when you did. You missed him too; missed the way that he knew exactly how to make you come apart; missed the way he would groan as you thrust your hips into his and beg for him to fuck you harder.

“I need you so bad Jack, please make me come.” You weren’t sure if you were still making sense, mind too focused on chasing a high that you had been craving ever since you let Jack back into your life. You could feel him smirk against your skin, pulling back to look you in the eyes as the hand that was playing with your nipple moved down, stroking your pussy once again and teasing your hole.

“Want my fingers sweetheart?” You nodded, thrusting your hips up once again to get him to touch you properly and he let out a light chuckle. “So needy, it’s okay baby I’ll give you what you want.” 

Soon Jack’s fingers slipped inside you once again, curling upwards to hit the spongey spot inside of you that always made you tense and cry out. You couldn’t hold back the moans and whimpers as Jack lent down to suck on your nipple, fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you as his thumb found its way to your clit, making small movements that sent electric shocks through your whole body.

“F-fuck Jack you feel so good.” You could hear your voice become slightly whinier and the tears begin to roll down your face as the stimulation on your cunt began to build - you were getting close and you needed release. “Please make me cum baby, please, please.”

“Of course baby, you deserve it for being so good, you’re so good for me.” Jack’s voice was scratchier, and it went straight to your core as your legs began to twitch and your back arched - a loud moan leaving your throat as your orgasm washed over your body. Jack didn’t stop his movements despite the overstimulation, forcing you to ride out your orgasm for longer than you would when alone and you felt more tears roll down your cheeks as you fingernails dug into his freckled back.

“Oh fuck Jack.” You could feel the way your body was spasming and how your pussy was clenching around his fingers, which had finally stilled as you came down from your orgasm. You tugged him down for another kiss, this one messier than before and you enjoyed the way his dick felt heavy against you. You put your hands up to his chest and lightly pushed him so he was now lying on his back, before swinging your legs over his hips, grinding your pussy over his dick covering it in your juices.

“F-fuck sweetheart.” Jack let out a groan as the tip of his dick caught your hole before you continued to slide your wet cunt over him, his hands were gripping your hips helping your movements and you placed your hands on his chest, fingernails digging in once again. You could feel yourself leak more when you noticed the way you left little half moon dents into his chest and couldn’t resist bending down to bite his chest, enjoying the way he flexed underneath you.

You pulled your hips away from Jack and revelled in the way he let out small complaints before reaching down to line his cock up with your hole, lowering yourself down onto him. Both of you let out a small hiss as you got used to his size and your fingers soon found his hands and entangled themselves together, placing them above his head. Your movements were slow at first, letting your body get used to his size, before you started to pick up. 

Jack was in heaven, completely mesmerised at the way you took control and rode him, you tits bouncing up and down in his face and his tried to lift his head to wrap his lips around them but was restrained by your hands holding his arms above his head.

“Baby please, I need to touch you.” Jack was begging now, hands straining against yours. He knew if he really wanted to he could break free from your grasp but he also enjoyed the feeling of control you had over him in that moment - enjoyed the way you borderline used him fro your own pleasure. “Please sweetheart, I want to make you feel good.”

You relented hands finally releasing Jack’s. In one swift motion, his cock still buried inside of you, Jack himself up into a sitting position. His hands came to rest on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart before letting go with a small smack - his lips finding place on your nipples as you continued to bounce on his cock. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping skin, and it was only turning you on more - your orgasm building once again.

You let Jack take the lead, his hands resting on your hips and pulling you up and down on his cock, meanwhile you snuck a hand down to your clit, rubbing aggressive circles into it as you chased your own high. You could feel Jack’s thighs begin to twitch underneath you and his moans get breathier and closer to whines, he was close, but he was a gentleman and he wouldn’t allow himself his release until you had yours.

Thankfully you were far off, your legs shaking and your body tensing as the feeling of Jack's cock rubbing against your walls and the movements of your fingers on your clit sent you over the edge.

“Fuck Jack I’m coming.” You barely had time to warn him before you were letting out another loud moan, your body going still and if it wasn’t for the hand Jack had moved to your back you were sure you would fall over backwards. Jack continued his movements, his cock twitching inside of you as your pussy clamped down over him as your orgasm continued. It wasn’t long before Jack’s breath was choppy and his fingers dug into your body, which you sure would leave small bruises the next morning and he slipped his cock out of your body, instead covering your pussy in his cum, spurt after spurt landing over your body.

“Fuck me sweetheart.” You could barely form words to respond, instead pulling Jack into a kiss, slow and loving as his cock began to soften from where it lay on your pussy.

“I believe I already did.”

BONUS: The Shirt

You had sent the link to Jack as a joke. It was right after your date night, your last request he fulfilled before you would officially be his, you didn’t think he would take it seriously - let alone actually wear the shirt.

But here he was in the middle of the ED before his shift. You had come in earlier thanks to a shortage of nurses, so you were just as surprised as the others had been when he walked in, the shirt slightly too small, which was good for you as it allowed you to check out his thick biceps and chest. You heard Trinity and Dennis let out a small laugh together as Jack made his way up to you by the central nurses station.

“Hey Sweetheart, I missed you.” He lent over the counter to place a small kiss on your lips and when he pulled back you couldn’t help but stare at the shirt once again.

“What are you wearing?” You were aware of all the eyes on the two of you, and you didn’t know what was more shocking - Jack in the shirt or Jack being openly affectionate on the ED floor.

“You told me to get it - plus I think it really makes a point.” Jack stood up slightly taller, puffing his chest out as he looked down to read the shirt. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole as Princess and Perlah started whispering about you from where they stood behind you.

“Jack, it was a joke - I don’t need you to wear this shirt.” You had stood up by now, moving around the desk to grab his arm and drag him towards the lockers - ignoring the little wolf whistle Robby let out as you stormed past.

“I can take it off, but I don’t think the patients would be too happy with that view.” You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's teasing tone, shoving him into the locker room before following him behind. 

You would be lying if you didn’t admit that you found the shirt a little attractive - well not the shirt necessarily but the fact that Jack was so willing to be open about your relationship and so confident in showing everybody that he was taken, it was hot. Which is exactly why you took the opportunity of an empty locker room to pull him into a searing kiss, hands tugging at his shirt.

“You’re such an idiot.” You mumbled into his lips and you felt him grin against you.

“Yeah but I’m your idiot.”

a/n: guys the love yall gave to over it has literally floored me thank you so so so much - i gift this to yall because i feel like you deserved some whipped!jack <33 i should probably wait to post this but im impatient so ENJOY BABYYSSS

the shirt in question:

[saccharinespring]

wtw - the following years

a little look through the WTW universe in instagram snapshots read white trash wedding!

noturmilf

liked by d.whitaker, trinsan and others

noturmilf ten years later and i'm finally home (ft. a sneaky photo from our first wedding)

d.whitaker can't imagine this life without you liked by creator

trinsan ew get these hets away from me liked by creator

d.whitaker okay so somebody wont be best man at the wedding trinsan NO I TAKE IT BACK IM SORRY noturmilf its okay xx u can be my maid of honor bby

robinabitch happy for your kids liked by creator

d.whitaker thanks man! noturmilfthank you! cant believe i haven't met denny's work father yet tho >:-[ robinabitch blame your husband - hes hiding you

d.whitaker

liked by robinabitch, noturmilf and others

d.whitaker while mumma is away the kids will play (yes i bruised my ass falling off that swing)

noturmilf dennis i cannot believe you

noturmilf YOU GOT A KITTEN? the ONE weekend i'm not home noturmilf im divorcing you d.whitaker IM SORRY BLAME OUR GIRL SHE GUILTED ME noturmilf too late the papers are signed

j.avadi omgomg the KITTEN IS SOCUTEEE

trinsan im so glad i was there to witness you breaking your ass

d.whitaker i regret ever meeting you trinsan dont speak to your childs godmother that way d.whitaker you are not her godmother trinsan not her godmother YET*

trinsan

liked by noturmilf, j.avadi and others

trinsan nobody tell dennis but we stole his girl tagged: noturmilf, j.avadi, samohan, joycon

d.whitaker pls return her in one piece i dont trust you guys

noturmilf bby dont worry im fineeeeeee j.avadi yeah we're doctors okay we know how to drink responsibly liked by creator samohan this isn't true all of them are currently trying to climb a fence into somebody elses property bc they saw a cat go that way trinsan snitch.

joycon dennis will never see her again - we're eloping as i type this liked by creator

d.whitaker pls dont i love her :-( noturmilf OMG I LOVE YOU TOO BBY SHES JOKING IM RETURNING HOME RN

d.whitaker

liked by joycon, samohan and others

d.whitaker recovery photographed over the span of a day (she cried for an hour over that pizza and yelled at me when i took the photo)

noturmilf how dare you expose me like this liked by creator

trinsan girl i cried over my pizza too it mustve been something in the water d.whitaker yall didnt drink any water dont even

joycon you dont deserve her or her pizza tears

d.whitaker ..... i dont even know you noturmilf dennis dont speak to my wife that way

noturmilf

liked by d.whitaker, trinsan and others

noturmilf only took us eleven years to get here... tagged d.whitaker

d.whitaker i love you so much mrs whitaker

noturmilf i love you more mr.whitaker

trinsan most beautiful couple to ever exist

j.avadi love you guys <3 so happy for you both

robinabitch proud of you guys

abboot hopefully now huckleberry will stop telling everyone about his fiancee d.whitaker yeah BC SHE'S MY WIFE NOW!

joycon if it doesn't work out im still here @/noturmilf

noturmilf dont tell dennis but im omw rn d.whitaker babe pls i cant tell if you joking anymore

hehe hope you guys enjoy xx also anypics used of reader are not indicative of what she would look like - they are just for aesthetic purposes!!!