Hey!! I would love to request a Whitaker x Langdon. Where Langdon is dating Whitakers sister and that has made them to become buddies all of a sudden but the Pitt crew has no idea that whitaker has a sister or that Langdon is dating anyone (you can chose which one fits better) so they are randomly thrown off guard where this new friendship began and start speculating their own ideas. And it’s in mixed media form! (hope that makes sense lol it’s my first time making a request)
A vet and a resident walk into a bar(n) . . .
tags: frank langdon x whitaker!reader, equine vet reader, medical inaccuracies, reader gets hurt (kicked in the stomach), secret relationship, overprotective dennis and frank, mixed media (smau + written portion), abby and kids do not exist in this universe
notes: thank you anon for sending in this request! i went with the pitt knows reader is dennis's sister but no one knows she's in a relationship with frank (including dennis), if you'd like to join my permanent taglist please comment on this post ! enjoy!
word count: 2.5k
social media aspect: instagram and text messages
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Dennis had just put his phone down when the ambulance bay doors slid open. He knew exactly who was coming through, and even with your in-advance warning, he still couldn’t help but panic when you were wheeled through on the gurney looking pale and very much so in pain.
The sight of you immediately short-circuited every ounce of composure he usually carried in the Pitt. Your face had gone almost gray in the lighting, contrasting the dark scrubs you wore, your breathing shallow and uneven as one arm stayed clamped tightly to your side. Even from halfway across the station, he could see the train around your eyes every time the stretcher jostled as the EMTs steered you through. The paramedic walking beside you was talking, giving report in the steady cadence medical professionals used when they needed to stay calm, but Dennis barely processed half of it because all he could focus on was the fact that his older sister had been kicked hard enough by a horse to end up here.
“Hey, Dennis,” you muttered weakly when you spotted him moving toward the stretcher. “My favorite younger brother.”
“I’m your only younger brother.”
“And yet you still overachieve.”
Dennis ignored you entirely, already scanning you head to toe like he could somehow diagnose you by glaring hard enough. “You look terrible,” he breathed.
You let your head fall back dramatically against the headrest. “You’re actually being really hurtful right now.”
“The EMT just said you crashed into a fence.”
“Okay, well, in my defense, the fence came out of nowhere.”
The younger paramedic snorted loudly while adjusting the sides of the gurney. “The fence was stationary.”
“Can you not take the fence’s side in this?” you asked, wincing after because laughing sent a sharp stab through your ribs. “Ow. Nope. No one be funny for at least a hot minute.”
Dennis was already in tandem with the gurney as they pushed you deeper into the ER, concern bleeding through every attempt he made to stay clinical. “What happened exactly.”
You took a careful breath through your nose before answering. “Colic call. Six-year-old gelding. Sweetest horse on earth until a tractor backfired behind him.” Your mouth twisted at the memory. “Guess who was standing in the perfect spot to ruin the afternoon.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“Hit your head?”
“No.”
“Shortness of breath?”
“Yes, but I’m pretty sure that’s because breathing currently sucks.”
One of the nurses nearby pointed toward an open room while another peeled back the blanket covering you to attach monitors. The controlled noise of the ER wrapped around you with beeping machines, squeaking shoes, and overlapping voices from neighboring rooms. Usually hospitals didn’t bother you much; between Dennis and your own job, medical environments had become weirdly normal over the years. But being the one in the gurney instead of standing beside four-legged patients was significantly less fun.
“Pain’s where?” the nurse asked.
You shifted your hand slightly against your side. “Right ribs. Feels like someone shoved a knife in there every time I inhale.”
“Scale of one to ten?”
“Currently?” You thought about it for a second. “Like . . . an eight, maybe nine if Dennis keeps staring at me like I’m dying.”
“You texted me ‘that your whimsy was still intact,’ and somehow that was supposed to make me feel better?” he shot back.
“I stand by that statement.”
“You got kicked by a horse.”
“Occupational hazard?”
“You work with thousand-pound animals because you love them,” he said incredulously, using air quotes with enough annoyance to make you smile. “Meanwhile I work with people, and statistically they’re less likely to break my ribs.”
“That feels debatable in this hospital.”
The nurse covering a laugh coughed into her sleeve while hooking leads onto your chest. Dennis looked severely unimpressed. But before he could say anything else, another voice cut through the room.
“What’ve we got?”
Dr. Robby stepped through the curtain with a practiced ease, tablet tucked beneath one arm as his attention moved quickly between the monitors and your chart. Unlike Dennis, the older man looked calm enough to keep the entire room grounded by himself, though you caught the brief flicker of recognition when he realized exactly who was lying in the bed.
“Well," he said drying after a beat, “I usually hear about family disasters after the shift, not during.”
You pointed weakly toward Dennis. “He’s being too panicky for a doctor.”
Dennis looked offended. “You could have internal bleeding, and you’re telling me I’m too panicked.”
“You should get a gold star or something. Do they give those out here?”
Robby huffed out something dangerously close to a laugh before stepping closer to examine your side. “All right, let’s see how bad this actually is. Mechanism of injury?”
“Horse kick to the right upper quadrant,” Dennis answered before you could.
“The horse was rude,” you corrected.
“The horse was a horse.”
“Wow. Victim blaming.”
Robby pulled on gloves, lips quirking up in amusement. “You always this talkative with possible fractures.”
“She gets worse with pain meds,” Dennis muttered, earning him an eyeroll.
“Good to know.” Robby looked back at you. “Any abdominal pain?”
You hesitated. “Mostly ribs.”
“Mostly?”
“There’s some soreness lower down, but I also fell into a fence, so I feel like my entire torso is filing complaints right now.”
“You’re concerningly descriptive.”
“I’m an equine vet. We describe things dramatically for a living.”
Robby carefully pressed along your abdomen first, methodically and steady. You managed the first few seconds before his hand moved slightly higher, and a sharp pain ripped through your side hard enough to pull a broken sound from your throat.
“Okay,” you gasped immediately, gripping the edge of the mattress. “Yep. Hate that one.”
Dennis was by your side within moments, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. “Easy.”
Robby’s expression pinched, all traces of humor fading as he watched your reaction. “Any pain in your shoulder? Dizziness? Nausea?”
“No shoulder pain. Little dizzy earlier, but I figured that was from getting hit by a horse.”
“You’d be surprised how often the two are linked.”
He continued the exam carefully, asking questions while watching for every involuntary flinch and hitch in your breathing. When he was done poking and prodding, he wheeled over an ultrasound, gelled up your stomach, and pressed the wand down near your ribs to make sure nothing inside you had ruptured. You knew enough about medicine to understand why everyone suddenly looked more serious. Internal bleeding was no joke, and blunt-force trauma from a horse kick had more than enough power behind it to cause real damage.
Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t stop your sense of humor.
“So,” you said after a moment, voice thinner now from pain, “hypothetically, if I did die—”
“You’re not dying,” Dennis interrupted.
“Hypothetically,” you repeated pointedly, “I think the horse shouldn’t be charged with involuntary manslaughter.”
Robby finally snorted. “You planning to get on the stand to defend him?”
“I would, but breathing’s become very inconvenient.”
“You’re still making jokes,” Dennis muttered under his breath, through the tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased once since you arrived.
“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes glancing over at him properly for the first time since arriving. “I’m fine.”
Dennis looked unconvinced until he breathed a heavy sigh of relief and visibly deflated when Robby announced there was no free fluid, ergo no internal bleeding. Robby stripped off one glove thoughtfully before nodding toward the monitors.
“Your vitals are stable; that’s good. But I want imaging to rule out internal injuries and get your ribs checked out.” His eyes flickered toward you again. “Because if you cracked one, every breath for the next month is going to make you deeply regret your career choices.”
You closed your eyes dramatically. “I knew I should’ve become a dermatologist.”
_______________________
Out at the nurses’ station, the Pitt watched as charts shuffled from hand to hand, listened to monitors beep irradicably, and groaned when a patient loudly insisted WebMD had diagnosed him correctly. In all the madness, Frank stood near the tracking board with a coffee that had long since gone cold, half-listening to Robby explain a consult while his eyes skimmed over room assignments.
He was on the cusp of picking a patient when he picked up on the end of Trinty’s sentence.
“. . . yeah, Huckleberry’s sister came in after being kicked by a horse.”
He froze.
Across from him, Dana blinked rapidly. “By an actual horse?”
“Yeah,” Trinity answered. “What other kind of horse is there?”
“I don’t know, Santos, maybe a metaphorical one?”
“She’s an equine vet,” Trinity continued, already invested in the story. “Cracked rib, maybe more bruising, but no internal bleeding, which honestly feels lucky considering—”
Frank was already moving before she finished her sentence.
Robby had looked up just in time to catch the abrupt change in direction. “Langdon—”
But Frank barely heard him. The words Huckleberry's sister and kicked by a horse had hit him like a defibrillator to the chest. Because you hadn’t texted him, which meant either you were unconscious—clearly you weren’t—or you’d been in enough pain not to think about it, which somehow felt worse.
The curtain to your room snapped open hard enough to make both you and Dennis look up. Frank stepped inside looking far more rattled than anyone in the hospital had probably ever seen him. His eyes landed on you almost instantly, blue hues scanning over the hospital gown, the monitor leads, the way you were sitting stiffly against the raised bed with one arm wrapped around you.
“What the hell?” he demanded breathlessly. “Why didn’t you text me?”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “Hi to you too.”
“You got kicked by a horse.”
“That seems to be the headline today, yeah.”
Frank crossed the room in three quick strides, all sharp concern and adrenaline, not even remotely thinking before one hand cupped gently against the side of your face. "Baby,” he muttered, voice softer now as his thumb brushed beneath your eye. “Are you okay?”
You softened under the candor in his voice. “I’m okay. Cracked rib. Bruised ego.”
“You were in an ambulance.”
“And now I’m here.” You gave him a tiny smile. “Conveniently close to you, actually.”
Frank exhaled shakily through his nose before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your lips.
At the motion, the room fell into the type of silence where you could literally hear an entire human soul exit their body for a second. Frank stilled against your lips before turning his head slowly, eyes meeting Dennis’s comically large ones.
For the deration he was in the room, Frank had completely forgotten about your younger brother and the possibility that he was still in the room with you, watching every move.
“Oh,” Frank said after a very long, intense pause.
You closed your eyes. “Surpriseeeee.”
Dennis stared at both of you like his brain had fully blue-screened. “What,” he said flatly, “is happening right now?”
Frank, to his credit, recovered faster than most people would have after a major secret had been spilled. He straightened, chest slightly puffed, though his hand stayed resting against your shoulder almost instinctively.
Dennis pointed between the two of you. ‘No, seriously. What. Is. This?”
You cracked one eye open carefully. “This is probably the worst way possible for you to find out I’m dating you coworker.”
“And you chose Frank out of all the options?”
Frank cleared his throat. “In fairness, we were going to tell you.”
“When?”
Both of you answered at the exact same time.
“Soon.”
“Eventually.”
Your brother looked personally betrayed. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.”
You winced as laughter tugged painfully against your ribs. “Please don’t make me laugh; I’m injured.”
Dennis said your name with the disappointment of a thousand generations. “You kept this from me for how long?”
“A few . . . months,” you admitted cautiously.
“A few—” Dennis looked over at the ER Ken. “You?”
Frank at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “Yes.”
“You’re my coworker.”
“Yes.”
“You’re dating my sister.”
“Yes.”
Dennis leaned back in his chair slowly, staring at the ceiling for one long suffering moment like he was searching for divine patience. “I actually cannot believe this.”
“Technically,” you offered weakly. “You can believe it very easily.”
“Not helping.”
Frank finally relaxed just a bit, shoulders dropping just enough to show he wasn’t about to bolt for the nearest exit. If anything, the initial panic that had driven him there settled into something manageable now that he could see you were genuinely all right.
“You should have called me,” he said quietly, blue eyes returning to you.
You bit your bottom lip slightly. “I know. I just didn’t want you freaking out during shift. I can handle one panicking doctor not two.”
“To be fair, I’m still freaking out right now.”
Dennis looked between the two of you again, annoyance slowly being overtaken by reluctant realization. Because Frank’s attention never strayed far from you for more than a few seconds. Every glance checked your breathing, your posture, whether you were in pain. His hand kept drifting toward you unconsciously, touching your arm, your shoulder, your hairline like reassuring himself you were actually okay.
It was disgustingly genuine, and Dennis hated how Frank’s eyes melted as he looked at you.
“You’re serious about her?” he finally asked, arms crossing in front of his chest to make him appear bigger than he felt.
Frank didn’t even hesitate. “Very.”
“And you couldn’t tell me?”
“I wanted to.” Frank glanced briefly toward you before looking back at Dennis. “She was worried it’d make things weird at work.”
“It’s a bit too late for that; it’s already weird.”
“You’re right.”
Dennis narrowed his eyes. “If you hurt her—”
“I love her, Whitaker.”
Your breath caught while Frank looked almost surprised that he’d said it out loud so quickly, but he didn’t take it back. If anything, he just looked more certain after the fact, meeting Dennis’s stare evenly.
“I love her,” he repeated more firmly. “And I would never do anything to hurt her.”
Dennis’s entire threatening brother speech visibly derailed.
“Oh,” you said quietly before you could stop yourself.
Frank glanced at you then, some of the tension easing from his face at the look in your eyes. You expected him to continue his speech, to pronounce his love for you again so that you could melt into his arms or pull him down for another kiss.
Instead, he said, “You got kicked by a horse,” like he was still emotionally stuck there.
You smiled despite the ache in your chest. “You keep saying that like it personally offended you.”
“It did personally offend me. The horse hurt my girlfriend. The audacity.”
A small giggle flowed from your lips. “Maybe I’ll let you play doctor on me later.”
Dennis groaned loudly, scrubbing both hands down his face. “This is horrible. I’m trapped in a medical drama where my sister is wanting to roleplay a patient as a patient with her doctor boyfriend—my coworker—who’s also a doctor!”
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liked by dennis.whitaker, trinity.santos, gabby.val, flangdon, and 247 others
y/n.whitaker had a great day back at work! especially when Frankie brought my whole team drinks! ily 😘
tagged: flangdon
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gabby.val please keep him!
y/n.whitaker but of course! gotta have someone useful :D
dennis.whitaker okay so the guy you were soft launching this entire time was FRANK??
y/n.whitaker yep!
dennis.whitaker how could I have missed all the signs!
y/n.whitaker cause you were busying looking at old men
dennis.whitaker please do not air out my business in your instagram comments
y/n.whitaker but it's just so much fun
trinity.santos you could have done so much better 🙄
y/n.whitaker dw he's never going to take away our thursday karaoke sessions <3
trinity.santos if he ever THOUGHT of taking them away, I'd make sure he'd never be found
flangdon glad you're doing much better, baby ❤️ and I'm glad I could do something for you and your team!
y/n.whitaker we need you around more often. I think the horses liked you!
flangdon my job is horse 🐴
el.bee so glad to have you back at work doc!
y/n.whitaker I'm glad to be back too!
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liked by dr.abbot, y/n.whitaker, mel.king, d.evans, and 351 others
flangdon so if I bought her a horse . . . do I get boyfriend of the year award?
tagged: y/n.whitaker
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dennis.whitaker she already has two back home 🙄
y/n.whitaker key words: back home
flangdon she asked so nicely, I just had to listen
dennis.whitaker she did the eyes didn't she?
flangdon yep. I lost the war before it even started.
mel.king nice!
y/n.whitaker definitely need you and becca out here for some good horse vibes
mel.king sounds amazing 🤩
trinity.santos no because y/n deserves a girlfriend
y/n.whitaker maybe I'll just be independent on my own!
flangdon I also make an amazing footrest if a boyfriend isn't needed
y/n.whitaker I LOVE YOU AND OUR NEW SON!!!!
flangdon what are we naming him?
y/n.whitaker either frank jr. or hotdog
flangdon whatever you want baby whatever you want
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