#day27

“You look nice today,” he had said one morning, while your eyes glanced over some charts. 

You scrunch your nose, as you look up at him, as you remark with a light joke, “Oh thanks for appreciating my 4 day old hair that totally should’ve been washed yesterday” 

“Uh–”

His brows furrow in confusion, he honestly wouldn’t have known. He truly thought you looked nice. 

Well he thought you looked nice everyday. 

He just didn’t always have the courage to say so. 

“Thanks anyway, Dennis.” You nod, catching Robby’s eye as your feet move to jump onto a new case, turning back to say, “I like your curls, suits you”

And a wave of fluttering emotions settled in his stomach from your off handed compliment. 

Other times when he thought words weren’t enough. He tried to make his affections obvious through little actions. 

He extends his arm instead, offering you a cup, a small nervous smile on his face, “I got you a coffee”

Blinking in surprise you take it in your hands, “Oh that is so sweet of you, I’ll spot you one next time” 

You’d smile, delightedly soothed by the drink. 

Once again thinking nothing of it. 

Not realising that Dennis only bought a coffee for you. 

He’s left sighing in defeat at another failed attempt. Mouth downturned whilst he’s pulled away to work on an incoming trauma. 

Don’t get him wrong. He had certainly tried asking you out. 

It’s just that…

You never seemed to realise that was his intention. 

You never turned him down outright either. 

Nearing the end of a long shift, where the day felt too heavy. A day that makes you hesitate going home alone. 

Dennis had walked up to you once more, after giving himself a little pep talk. He was ready to try his luck once more. 

“Do you want to get a drink after work?” 

“Oh yeah sounds good,” you nodded. 

A smile spreading across his lips from your words, “Great–”

Only for him to freeze as you continue, “It’ll be fun hanging out with you and Trin. Definitely need a night out to relax”

“Oh yeah, sure. Trinity…” He deflates. Watching as you nod with a bright smile that he couldn’t say no to. 

Shoulder’s sagging as you walk away, “I’ll just get my bag and we can plan where to go after”

He stands there and nods. 

Catching Trinity by the arm, “Santos you have got to tell Y/N you can’t come tonight”

“Come where?” She asks with a raised brow. 

“I asked her to get a drink after work, but she thinks that included you, to just hang out”

She clicks her tongue, “Better luck next time Huckleberry”

“Santos–” he pleads. 

“Look I would totally say no, but I need a night out, and Y/N is great to hang out with. So. I would totally help, but I won’t,” She offers him a tight smile, patting his back. 

He huffs audibly. 

Dennis just couldn’t seem to crack it. 

Couldn’t seem to work out how to ask you out. 

Maybe you just weren’t interested?…Maybe you were just being polite?...

He honestly had no clue…

Then one day.

As you were rambling on about this movie you wanted to watch. Excitement bubbling out of you as you spoke. 

He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. 

Enthralled by you and your glee. 

He took it as his chance. 

As an opening. 

“Sounds like a cool movie, we should go sometime,” he offered. 

Your eyes meet his, nodding in agreement, “That’s a great idea Dennis, could be a fun outing with everyone.”

He swallowed thickly, 

Not again.

“Oh–uh, I mean–”

“But should we invite everyone? I’m not sure the film would be up everyone’s alley, or even if they’re free. Who’s going to work if everyone comes and then with that in mind, people are going to miss out–”

His eyes meet Santos’ from across the room. She gives him a determined look, exaggerated miming for him to tell you. 

He takes in a deep breath before interrupting. 

“–Y/N”

“Yes Dennis?” your words fall short, stopping to look at him, tilting your head in question. 

“I meant us, as in you and I. Not everyone else. Just us. I’d like to go to the movies with you. Just you…as a date.” 

He says finally. Before tacking on as his shyness comes over, “Only if you want to–”

You reach out, clasping his hand softly, assuredly. “I’d love to” 

Nodding his head, as though he couldn’t believe it. The words falling from his lips quicker than he meant them to, “Great, then it’s a date”

Relief washing over him as he’s finally able to ask you out successfully. Able to call you and him going out together on a date. 

Relishing the feeling of your hand wrapped in his…

Stunned as it's pulled away, your hands covering your mouth as you realise. 

Shock coming over you. 

Eyes widening. 

“Have you been flirting with me this whole time?” 

“Maybe, yes. Kind of.” He admits shyly. 

“Oh my god, I feel like an idiot,” you bury your head in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. 

Dennis’ eyes softened, trying to console you, “No don’t–maybe I wasn’t being obvious enough, I just didn’t want to come off too strong,” he tried to explain. 

Lifting your head from your hands you say apologetically, “Dennis I am so sorry–fuck, I can be thick sometimes”

He laughs softly from your mutterings. Shaking his head to try to quell your apologies. 

“Anyways. I can’t wait for our date. How does tomorrow night sound? We can get something to eat before—my shout, to make up for the whole. You know–Not knowing you were flirting, thing.” You offer. Heart pounding as you realise the boy you like happened to like you back. 

He thought better than to argue with you, instead suggesting a compromise. 

“How about we split it? And call it even.”  

Your nerves begin to settle at his words, “Sounds perfect.”

And before you can talk yourself out of it. You lean up quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before ducking away. 

Thoughts scolding yourself for your oblivious nature. 

Literally what the fuck?!

But as soon as you turn the corner, just out of sight, a bright smile widens across your face as you feel your heart flutter in your chest. 

Racing from the very idea. 

Excited and elated. 

Leaving a stunned Dennis Whitaker standing still, hand slowly reaching up to clasp his cheek where your lips just brushed. 

Cheeks flooding with a rising heat. 

And across the room stands a very proud looking Santos. Who offers him a thumbs up in approval. 

It’s about fucking time her roommate went on a date. 

Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough. 

A date that honestly…

Did not go to plan. 

Dennis should’ve realised it from the moment that trauma came barreling through at 6:36 pm that it was going to be a long one. 

Only once Santos and Javadi had practically shoved you both to the locker rooms, insisting they’d handle your hand-offs, did you both finally manage to leave the hospital.

Unfortunately by the time that happened it was well over 2 hours after you were meant to end your shift. 

But who could’ve expected anything else?

What neither of you expected was the pouring rain that pelted down. Standing beneath the cover of the ambulance bay. Side by side. 

Simply watching the rain pour. 

There was no way to get to your car without being drenched. 

And by that point there would be no way you’d get to go on your date together. 

Dennis was beginning to lose hope. Faith flailing, it felt like his efforts to ask you out were once again were quickly being washed down the gutter. 

But then you stood taller. Straighter. Determined. 

“Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah?” he replied, unsure as to what you meant. 

Nodding at his words you slipped your hand into his. 

“Ok, on the count of three, you’re going to have to run with me,” you stated. “One–”

“Wha–”

“Two–”

“Wait–”

“Three!” 

Your feet begin to move, running through the rain as Dennis stumbles near the start, before falling into step. 

Soon enough you reach the car park, sheltered from the rain, both panting a little out of breath. 

Your eyes look over to him, seeing him absolutely drenched to the core, hair sticking to his forehead, clothes clinging to him. 

Even now he looks gorgeous. 

Eyes wide and glistening. 

You can’t help but laugh. You both were probably quite a sight, as he began to chuckle beside you. 

Hands still clasped together. 

“I think the movies might be out of the question,” he says finally, as your laughter dies down. A sound that made him feel as though he were floating on cloud nine. 

“Maybe not,” you said. 

He furrowed his brows, confused by your words. 

“Well. Since going out is clearly out of the question,” you answered whilst pointing to both of your drenched appearances. “We could pick up some takeout, go to mine and watch a movie there, can’t promise I’ll be wearing a little black dress but hopefully my pyjamas still look half decent”

“I like that idea a lot.” Dennis nods, a warm smile gracing his features. 

So long as he was with you, he was sure to love it. 

He squeezes your hand just slightly. 

He softly murmurs, shifting closer to you, “I also, really like my hand holding yours.” 

“I really like it too.” You quietly reply, looking up into his eyes.

You don’t know how long you must’ve lingered there. 

Simply holding onto the feeling of his hands intertwined with yours. 

Knowing that this was the beginning of something fun. 

Something sweet. 

Something perfectly imperfect. 

Perhaps what started out rocky. A little misshapen. 

Turns out wonderful. 

Comfortable and warm. 

Cosy as you nestle beside Dennis upon your couch. 

A calm washing over you both. 

And just maybe. Trinity doesn’t see her roommate until the very next day as they begin their shift.

A Cheshire grin on her face as she sees him, walking in with you. 

His hair a little tussled, sleep still in his eyes. And most noticeably. In the very same clothes as yesterday. 

As he had fallen asleep beside you on your couch, fingers still interlaced with yours. 

A small smile upon both your faces. 

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little piece. I can just totally imagine Dennis fumbling over words trying to flirt with you, and being disheartened with each attempt but not giving up (respectfully of course, would be a dif story if you turned him down, he'd totally back off if you did)! Let me know what you thought ✨ Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕 If you enjoyed, consider checking out my Dennis Whitaker x Former Army Medic!ReaderTread Lightly Series Or find my Dr Robby x Wayne!Reader Rinse & Repeat Series Masterlist here 🩺 Or check out my overall Masterlist here

You tell yourself not to overthink it, which of course means you do exactly that.

You’re sitting on the couch beside Levi, a movie droning on in front of you that you’re not fully focused on. Your hand rests beside him, close enough that your fingers could brush if either of you moved just slightly, and you feel the want, the curiosity, and the small, nervous question sitting in your mind.

Is this okay?

Levi doesn’t move, his attention fixed on the screen. His posture is completely relaxed, as it usually is during nights like these. You haven’t been together for very long, just a few months, but you’ve learned quickly that he isn’t a very touchy person.

And yet, your fingers shift, just barely. A light brush, almost accidental, the softest contact against his hand. You freeze immediately after, your breath catching as you wait. Did he notice? He didn’t pull away.

Okay. Time to try again. Slowly, cautiously, like you’re about to touch a thousand year old artifact, you let your fingers linger this time, then they wrap just a little around his hand. You’re just testing the boundary, and you give him every chance to slip away if he wants to.

Please don’t pull away.

For a second, he doesn’t do anything. Then, his hand turns. Not away. Toward you. His fingers slide between yours, interlacing them fully instead of leaving it loose. His grip on you is firm. Your breath leaves you in an exhale you didn’t realize you were holding, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body. You don’t look at him, nor do you say anything. Neither does he. 

The movie keeps playing, voices rising and falling in the background, but it fades until the only thing you notice is the feeling of his hand against yours and the almost imperceptible shift of his thumb against your knuckles.

He didn’t hesitate. He chose to reciprocate. You smile to yourself, just barely, a smile that you don’t particularly want him to see, but you still lean a little closer and let your head rest against his shoulder, testing that boundary too.

He doesn’t move away from that either. In fact, he leans in to rest his head against yours, gripping your hand just a little bit tighter.

You could get used to this.

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Tucker froze.

Every last muscle in his body locked up as the light flooded his bedroom—revealing him.

Danny. Danny Fenton. His best friend. The one they buried.

The one Tucker watched die.

Danny stood casually against the wall, arms loosely crossed like this was some normal after-school hangout. His pitch black hair a little messy, his posture slouched in that infuriatingly familiar way—alive. And yet… not.

Tucker’s chest tightened. He inhaled, but no air reached his lungs. His vision tunneled as he stared and stared and stared—waiting for this cruel hallucination to flicker out.

But the dead don’t flicker.

“Tuck?” Danny tilted his head, brow creasing. “It’s okay if you don’t want me here. I get it.”

Tuck.

Nobody else… called him that.

A sharp tremor ran through Tucker’s hands. His glasses slid down his nose as his jaw began to wobble—he couldn’t wrench his gaze away, couldn’t breath, couldn’t think.

“Yyy—you—“ His voice cracked. “It’s not… not possible you’re here. You’re supposed to be… dead.” He whispered the last word.

Danny blinked slowly, puzzled—almost like he was hurt. “Why not? I mean, it’s not like I’m really dead dead. They just… keep me there. To stay safe, they say. But I don’t want that anymore. I’m done with that cold bed.”

Cold bed. Cold earth. A coffin.

Tucker’s stomach heaved.

“I—I saw you,” he whispered—a raw, shredded confession. “I saw you dying in front of me. Do you even understand the meaning of death, Danny?”

Danny’s mouth parted—confused, searching—like a kid trying to solve a puzzle too dark to look at.

“But I didn’t die,” he insisted softly, lifting a hand to his chest as if checking for a heartbeat he wasn’t sure existed. “I was just… numb. Limp. Whatever. If I really died, I wouldn’t be here talking to you. Right?”

His hand dropped—lifelessly. His ocean eyes held something hollow and frostbitten. Something wrong.

Tucker’s heartbeat slammed against his ribs, frantic and painful. Cold sweat dampened his spine. His knees buckled once, twice—and gave out entirely. He collapsed forward, glasses skidding across the floor as his head hit the carpet. The last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was a flash of light and Danny rushing toward him with a flare of panic—and… hands that looked just a shade too pale to belong to the living.

Tucker’s world went silent and cold.

“Tucker!”

Danny lunged forward just as Tucker’s knees buckled, but he wasn’t fast enough. His friend crumpled to the floor in a heap—glasses sliding away, breath knocked clean out of him.

A sick jolt tore through Danny’s chest—panic? Or that strange burn that flickered under his ribs whenever the world tilted wrong. Whatever it was, it surged like a half-formed transformation he didn’t quite understand.

He dropped to his knees beside Tucker, hands hovering uselessly for a second too long.

Why did Tucker look so… breakable? Why did everyone? As if their bones were made of paper and the world was constantly one shove from shattering them.. Of course it wasn’t normal. Of course they thought he was dead. But he wasn’t fucking dead.

“You’re such a weak idiot,” Danny muttered under his breath, voice taut and brittle. The words came out harsher than intended—defense mechanism, old instinct. “Dammit. I should’ve gone to Sam instead.”

But even as he spoke, Danny’s fingers trembled.

He slipped one hand under Tucker’s shoulder, the other grasping his limp arm to pull him onto his side—like he remembered from… somewhere. A memory that felt stitched together by someone else’s hands.

Tucker didn’t react.

His skin was warm, burning compared to Danny’s cold touch. Too cold. Tucker’s warmth seeped into him like something he shouldn’t have lost.

Danny flinched. He swallowed hard, throat aching with a pressure that wasn’t breathing, not really—a mimicry his body hadn’t relearned yet. His heart—or whatever that pulsed inside him—thrashed weakly against his ribs.

“I—I’m sorry,” he whispered underneath his breath. The apology shook as it escaped his lips. “This wasn’t supposed to go like… like this.”

He slid an arm beneath Tucker’s back and lifted—too fucking easy. It was like lifting a pillow.

Had Tucker always been this… light? Or was Danny stronger now?

Or too dead?

Cautiously, he settled Tucker on the bed, adjusting his limbs so he didn’t look so lifeless. Danny rushed a thumb against Tucker’s forehead—an old habit, checking for fever like Jazz used to do to him—

Except… Tucker shivered at the cold.

Danny snatched his hand back, guilt biting sharp.

“It won’t happen again,” he murmured, even though he wasn’t sure he believed it. His voice cracked, and he hated that. “I’m sorry so sorry, Tuck.”

Tucker didn’t stir.

Dannt’s fingers curled into fists—nails digging into his palms. The room pressed onto him, the heat, the posters, the dust—even that stupid fake caramel apple they’d won at the carnival once. All screaming alive in a way he couldn’t replicate. Not anymore.

His breathing felt fake and forced and stuttered. Panic spiraled.

He couldn’t stay. He wasn’t supposed to be seen. Wasn’t supposed to be here.

Before he could think it through—before more apologies could rot on his tongue—Danny stepped backward and let the gravity slip away from him. His body blurred into ectoplasm and light, phasing effortlessly through the ceiling and insulation and rooftop.

Cold air hit him like a slap.

And Danny shot upward, into the night sky—leaving warmth behind.

Leaving Tucker.

Leaving the truth he wasn’t ready to face.

⟢ I could’ve made this longer, but I didn’t. My brain is still kind of fried, being hit with a writer’s block. But at least, I try. Right? And that’s what matters, I guess.

⟢ I had actually no inspiration what to do with this prompt and who the “he” should be. Maybe I didn’t understood the assignment yet again LMAO. I could’ve made this more interesting I think… pfft.

⟢ Two POV’s, we love doing that. Don’t we? Yup!