dr. sunshine

old enough to be your mom but young enough to date her (but seriously i'm 23)

[itisdoctortoyousir]

works of “art”

Alex Blake x Reader:

for want of a little courage 

at the peak of opulence

en sa beauté gît ma mort et ma vie

my (orange) dream(sicle) girl

la vita è più dolce con te

when you take my hand, there is no time

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader:

i wanna go do something kinda crazy

my mom’s a mob boss

we do, but friends don’t

Ava Coleman x Reader:

six billion people - one of them’s right for you

Original Character x Reader:

to seat D13 (in lieu of a name)

[maximoffwitch]

slipped my mind | d. evans

summary: after a long shift, dana spends the night at your place. the only problem is you may have forgotten to tell her who your roommates are. luckily, they’re not home and she’s wearing more than an oversized t-shirt when she runs into them in the kitchen the next morning… right?

word count: 2.3k

tags: domestic fluff; secret relationship; roomies trinity and dennis; hint of garsantos; the devil wears prada reference

a/n: technically a prequel to ‘tender love and care’ but can be read as a standalone! i’m thinking of making this a whole universe and writing a bunch of one shots in it. let me know if you guys would read that :)

Rounding the nurses’ station, your bag slung over one shoulder, your girlfriends’ dangling off the other, you reached Dana and plucked her badge off her scrub top.

“Come on.” You pocketed the ornament of cards in exchange for her purse. “I’m taking you home.”

The charge nurse pried her eyes away from the computer screen and scoffed, an incredulous but tired expression on her face.

“Thank you,” Lena interrupted from behind you. “I’ve been trying to get her to leave for the past ten minutes.”

“I’m right here you know.” Dana raised a brow at both of you as she stood up. She swiped back her badge with ease but made no move to re-clip it to her collar. “I gave you my locker code for emergencies,” she said to you, lowering her voice.

“Everything’s an emergency around here, babe,” you quipped, matching her discretion.

The two of you were keeping your fairly new relationship under wraps, not wanting to become the subject of the department’s gossip mill. You knew Ahmad’s betting pool would run rampant and Princess and Perlah would have an absolute field day.

“Handoffs all finished?” You turned to Lena, who was now occupying Dana’s seat. You could see the night shift nurse had logged Dana out, and you gave her a small smile in appreciation.

“We’re all good here,” Lena confirmed before leveling her counterpart with a knowing look. “Go home.”

“Come on,” you repeated as you subtly wrapped your arm around Dana’s waist, pulling her towards you. “I’m driving.”

Looking between you and Lena, Dana huffed, but let herself be dragged around the nurses’ station. “Can’t believe you two are ganging up on me.”

“It’s for your own good,” you whispered, causing her to chuckle.

“Hold down the fort.” Dana turned back to Lena and waved.

“Always do,” the other charge nurse chirped, returning the wave.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool Pittsburgh night, the crisp air sobering, you practically felt the tension leave Dana’s body as she melted into your side. You knew there was nothing to be said in the moment, the shift still clinging to the both of you, so you simply pressed a kiss to the side of her head and guided her to your car.

You turned on the radio, the soft hum of whatever current hit was popular filling the comfortable silence. Every couple of stop lights, you stole glances at your girlfriend, who was just staring out the window. You knew it wasn’t anger or guilt gripping her body, but pure exhaustion. Placing your hand on the gear shift, you reached out to her, an offer of comfort for her to take if she wanted.

A few moments later, you felt her slender hand atop yours. You looked at her out of the corner of your eye, but her eyes were closed, so you simply ran your thumb over the back of her hand and pressed on the gas as the light turned green.

The drive to your place was short, normal commute hour long passed. As she felt the car slow and come to a stop, Dana opened her eyes, frowning when she looked out the window.

“This isn’t my place.”

“How astute of you,” you teased with an easy smile. Noticing the flash of hesitancy in her eyes, you softened. “Let me take care of you, D.”

Sighing, Dana closed her eyes again and squeezed your hand that was still in hers. “I expect pancakes tomorrow morning.”

You chuckled and brought your interlaced hands up to your mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Of course. I even have blueberries.”

Dana let out a sound that almost sounded like a chuckle and her eyes lightened. You took that as a win. Grabbing her bag from her feet and yours from the back seat, you stepped out of your car and quickly made your way around the hood to open her door. You held out your hand for her to take, and this time Dana laughed for real.

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Only for the best,” you replied smoothly, helping her out of the car.

The two of you dragged your feet up the stairs to your apartment, tired but eager to get out of your scrubs and into bed. As you unlocked and pushed open the door, Dana kicked aside a pair of shoes that were clearly too big to be yours.

“Roommates?” she asked quietly.

“Gone,” you replied with a yawn, pulling her straight towards your bedroom. To your fairness, your roommates were supposed to be gone; Trinity told you earlier she’d be staying at Garcia’s and Dennis had mentioned he was working a double.

As you entered your room, you dropped your bags on the floor by the door and rounded your bed to flick on the light. “Here.” You reaching into the adjoining bathroom to grab a spare towel and handed it to her. “Take a shower.”

“You saying I stink?” Dana joked but held out her hand nonetheless.

“Yes,” you deadpanned, taking a step towards her. “The antiseptic smell is ruining the mood.”

“Oh?” She lifted a brow and pulled you closer as she accepted the towel. “And what mood would that be?”

“The ‘I want to be in bed sleeping and cuddling my girlfriend’ mood,” you sassed.

Dana let out a low laugh, her eyes drifting down to your lips. “Join me?”

You hummed and closed the space between you, kissing her gently. “Tempting,” you mumbled against her lips. “But somebody has to make sure you eat.”

You gave her one more quick peck before gently pushing her towards the bathroom with a playful slap to her behind.

“Alright, alright,” Dana chuckled, shuffling her feet onto the tiled floor and shutting the door behind her.

She turned the faucet on before peeling off her scrubs, letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out of her clothes and into the steaming water, Dana sighed and closed her eyes as she braced herself against the shower wall. A bad shift wasn’t uncommon in the ED, and Dana was no stranger to this empty feeling, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The warm water helped calm her anxieties and soothe her aching muscles, and as she washed her hair—the scent of your shampoo enveloping her—Dana felt the day slowly rolling off her. You were right. She needed this.

Turning the water off, Dana stepped out and wrapped the spare towel you’d so graciously given her around her body. When she reentered your bedroom, Dana felt her chest swell. You had left out your old oversized Hopkins t-shirt for her, the one she’d worn the first time she’d spent the night and had off-handedly mentioned was criminally soft. She fondly shook her head at the sight of it. She couldn’t believe you’d remembered.

Slipping it over her head, Dana let the warm fabric drown her, the shirt dropping to her mid thigh. She then wrapped the towel around her hair before making her way out to the kitchen.

You were standing by the stove when she entered, your scrub top discarded, leaving you in your dark blue t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to your elbows.

“Grilled cheese?” Dana wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her chin on your shoulder. “Fancy.”

“I’ll have you know there’s like seven dollars worth of Jarlsberg in here,” you scoffed with mock-offense as you leaned back into her embrace.

“It’s eight dollars, you nerd,” she laughed, pinching your waist.

“And yet you still got the reference,” you retorted and swatted away her offending hand. “Go sit down. Yours is on the table with the soup.”

“So bossy,” Dana mumbled as she unraveled her arms from you and sat down at the round wooden table. Along the way, she discarded her hair towel, hanging it on the back of the empty chair, letting her wet hair fall onto her neck.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you flipped the sandwich onto a plate and turned off the stove before joining your girlfriend.

“Dinner is served, my lovely lady.” You wore a silly grin as you took the seat next to her.

Despite her earlier teasing and your playful tone, Dana returned a sincere smile. “Thank you, hon.”

Sensing the weight in her words, you softened. “Always,” you replied easily. “Now eat.”

The two of you ate in silence, shoveling the food down into your eager stomachs. You weren’t sure the last time you’d eaten, and you could only vague recall seeing a half-eaten protein bar next to Dana’s computer earlier this afternoon. There was no awkwardness to the lack of conversation, both you of simply content to be in the comfort of each other’s presence.

As you finished your last bites, Dana’s plate and bowl already empty, you reached for the dishes and moved to stand up but were stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I got this.” She took the stacked plates and bowls from your hand, giving you a stern look as if daring you to challenge her. “Go take a shower.”

“Now who’s bossy?” You muttered under your breath but nonetheless followed her directions. As you headed back towards your bedroom, you called over your shoulder, “Just throw them in the dishwasher.”

“Shower,” Dana responded pointedly like she was back in the hospital throwing out commands, but you knew it was her way of reassuring you. She got this.

After you quickly rinsed off, too tired to bother washing your hair, you slipped into a t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. As you were brushing your teeth, the door to the bathroom open.

“You still got a toothbrush here for me?” Dana asked, a lazy smirk tugging on her lips.

“Right there.” Your words came out garbled but you pointed to the ceramic cup that held a blue toothbrush.

As you watched her brush her teeth, leaning against the counter, you felt a warmth flood your body. There was a certain ease and domesticity of it all that comforted you. You could get used to this.

After you both finished getting ready for the night, finally, you flicked off the bathroom light and pulled her to bed. “Come on. I need sleep.”

You climbed into bed, your muscles thanking you for a break, and Dana slipped under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you wrapped your arm around her waist and pressed a soft kiss behind her ear. “I got you, darling.”

“I still expect pancakes in the morning,” Dana murmured, instinctively melting into your touch.

But you didn’t respond, your eyes already closed and your breathing evening out. You were asleep, and Dana soon followed.

The next morning, Dana awoke to your arm still cocooned around her body as the light of dawn leaked in through the cracks of the curtain. She glanced at the clock on your bedside table and saw there was still about fifteen minutes before you usually got up. Slowly, Dana slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you, as she went to start the coffee.

As sleep still clouded her mind, Dana didn’t notice the hushed whispers coming from the kitchen. But when she rounded the corner from the hallway and stepped into the main area of the apartment, she was met with two pairs of wide eyes and the harsh sound of a mug dropping.

“Dana?”

Eyes widening, suddenly wide awake, she saw Trinity and Dennis staring at her like a fish out of water. Dana was now very conscious of the fact that she was clad in only an oversized t-shirt and her underwear.

She yelled out your name.

When you woke up to the sound of ceramic breaking along with your last name being shouted from the other room, you knew something was wrong. Then you saw the other side of your bed was empty, and you realized.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, throwing the sheets off of you and scrambling out of bed.

As you stepped into the kitchen, three pairs of eyes staring at you for answers, you smiled sheepishly. “Good morning.”

“Santos and Whitaker are your roommates?” Dana gave you an exasperated look.

“Yes,” you said it like a question, as if that would keep you out of trouble.

“You didn’t think to tell me that?”

“It may have—” you winced at your own mistake— “slipped my mind.”

Dana huffed, and you could tell she was both annoyed and slightly embarrassed by the current predicament. You’d have a lot of groveling to do later.

“And what’s..this?” Trinity gestured between you and the charge nurse, unsuccessfully fighting off a smirk.

“We’re, um,” you stuttered and scratched the back of your neck, “kind of dating?”

Trinity’s face broke out into a shit-eating grin.

“Kind of dating?” Dana snorted, amused by the way your whole face had flushed pink.

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling in your chest. This was not how you imagined this going.

“Okay, yes.” You leveled your gaze at both of your roommates. “We’ve been dating for about three months.”

Dennis’s eyes widened, and you could see the gears churning in Trinity’s head.

“Wait, that means when you were rambling on and on—”

“Okay.” You interrupted Trinity, clapping your hands as your cheeks burned impossibly warmer. “Who wants pancakes?”

You slid past your girlfriend, quickly pecking her cheek, purposefully ignoring her now smug smirk. As you nudged Dennis away from the refridgerator and pulled out the milk and eggs, you heard Trinity groan.

“Great, now I owe Perlah thirty bucks.”

“What is my life,” you mumbled under your breath as you dropped your head against the fridge door.

“This one’s on you, hon,” Dana whispered into your ear as she scooted by you.

And as usual, she was right. You had no one to blame but yourself for how this morning played out. But as you watched her banter with Dennis and Trinity—not as charge nurse and residents, but as your girlfriend and your roommates—you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[karaeilish]

⠀ ꕀ ❛ jealous type ! ❜ 𓂃 the pitt ꒱ ｡

⤿ summary :: they get jealous when your fans call you "our girlfriend" in the comments SMAU

⤿ including :: jack abbot    /    cassie mckay    /    samira mohan    /    dana evans    /    dennis whitaker    /    yolanda garcia    /    al—hashimi    /    trinity santos    /    mel king   /   victoria javadi

[dana-evans-book]

Chapter Six: The First Picture

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Next chapter

A month changed things.

Not in obvious ways.

You still woke up in the same bed. Still went to work. Still lived your life the way you always had.

But underneath it—

Everything felt different.

Quieter in some moments. Louder in others.

More real.

---

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Dana’s contact.

Appointment — 2:30 PM

You hadn’t meant to schedule it during her shift.

It just… happened.

Earliest opening. You took it without thinking.

And now—

Now it felt too late to change it.

You could text her.

You should text her.

But the thought of interrupting her in the middle of a shift—pulling her out of that focused, controlled space she lived in at the hospital—

It made your chest tighten.

“She’s working,” you muttered to yourself. “She’s busy. It’s fine.”

It was just one appointment.

You could handle one appointment on your own.

---

The waiting room smelled faintly like disinfectant and something floral that didn’t quite cover it.

You sat with your hands folded in your lap, bouncing your knee slightly without realizing it.

Voices murmured around you. A TV played quietly in the corner.

Normal.

Everything felt normal.

Which somehow made your nerves worse.

---

“Y/N?”

You looked up quickly.

“That’s me.”

The nurse smiled gently. “Come on back.”

---

The exam room was smaller than you expected.

Colder, too.

You sat on the edge of the table, fingers gripping the paper lining slightly as you waited.

This was real.

This was—

The door opened again.

“Hi,” the doctor greeted, warm but efficient. “How are you feeling?”

You gave a small shrug. “Okay. Nervous.”

“That’s normal.”

You nodded, even though your heart was racing.

---

“Alright,” the doctor said after a few routine questions. “We’re just going to take a look, make sure everything’s progressing the way we expect.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

The word came out softer than you meant it to.

---

You weren’t sure what you expected.

A feeling. A sign. Something big.

But when the screen flickered on—

At first, it just looked like shapes.

Blurry. Hard to understand.

Then—

“There,” the doctor said gently, pointing.

Your breath caught.

“Oh.”

It was small.

So small.

But it was there.

Real.

---

A knock sounded at the door.

You barely registered it.

“Come in,” the doctor called.

The door opened—

And you turned your head just enough to see—

“Trinity?”

Trinity Santos froze in the doorway, clearly not expecting to actually catch you mid-appointment.

“Well,” she said, recovering quickly, “this is one way to skip work.”

You let out a shaky breath, half-laughing despite everything. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you,” she replied, stepping inside. “You didn’t text Dana.”

Guilt flickered immediately.

“I didn’t want to bother her,” you said quietly.

Santos gave you a look—but it softened when she glanced at the screen.

And saw.

Her expression shifted instantly.

“…Oh.”

Yeah.

That about summed it up.

---

She moved a little closer, standing near your shoulder now.

Not saying much.

Didn’t need to.

Because the moment kind of spoke for itself.

---

A few minutes later, the appointment wrapped up.

Vitals good. Everything where it should be.

You barely processed half of it.

Your mind was still stuck on the image burned into your memory.

---

Back in the hallway, you clutched the printed ultrasound in your hand like it might disappear if you loosened your grip.

Santos leaned against the wall beside you, arms crossed—but her usual sharp edge was dulled.

“You okay?” she asked.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

A beat.

Then—

“Don’t tell her.”

Santos blinked. “What?”

“Dana,” you clarified. “Don’t tell her I came without her.”

“Y/N—”

“Please,” you said quickly. “I just—I didn’t want to mess with her shift, and now it’s done, and I’ll tell her myself, I just—” You exhaled shakily. “Not like this.”

Santos studied you.

Long enough to make you nervous.

Then—

“…Alright,” she said.

Relief hit fast. “Thank you.”

“But you are telling her,” she added.

“I know.”

“You better.”

“I will.”

---

You looked down at the ultrasound again.

Then back at her.

“…Can you give this to her?”

Santos raised an eyebrow. “You just said you wanted to tell her yourself.”

“I do,” you said. “I just—” You hesitated. “I want her to have it.”

Something in your voice made Santos pause.

Then she nodded, taking the photo carefully.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

---

The parking lot was quieter than usual.

Late afternoon sun stretching long shadows across the pavement.

You walked slowly, keys in hand, your mind still catching up to everything that had just happened.

You should text her.

You knew you should.

But every time you thought about what to say—

Nothing felt right.

---

“Y/N!”

Your heart stopped.

You froze mid-step.

That voice—

You turned slowly.

And there she was.

Dana Evans stood a few rows over, still in her scrubs, eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

She was supposed to be at work.

Your mind raced.

Santos.

The ultrasound.

Oh no.

---

Dana closed the distance quickly.

Not rushed.

But purposeful.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, breath slightly uneven—not from exertion. From something else.

Concern.

Confusion.

Maybe both.

You swallowed. “I—”

Your voice caught.

Because now—

There was no avoiding it.

---

Dana’s gaze flicked briefly to your hands.

Then back to your face.

“…You had an appointment,” she said.

Not a question.

A realization.

---

And just like that—

Everything you tried to control unraveled anyway.

[annabethsrealwife]

.✦ ݁˖ sucker punch

summary: you get attacked by a patient and your girlfriend.. makes sure they gets what they deserved.

pairings: dana evans x fem!reader

a/n: ok so.. whoever requested this your request got deleted.. so i hope you see this!! i didn’t mean to delete it and tumblr was giving me a hard time.. so.. here it is!! i hope you see this cus now i feel bad like i promise i didn’t ignore you!! ok guys my girl actually needs some love.. like deadass! this is based off the episode emma got attacked in expect it’s you & ur dating dana! i hope you guys enjoy this cute little fic and don’t forget to send more requests! (i saw some of ur guys request and i will start writing them!! just been busy w school but im back now!!! yipeee)

it was a normal shift.

or at least… as normal as it ever got around here. everything was loud, busy, people moving too fast, voices overlapping, monitors beeping in the background. you were used to it by now. you had to be.

you were going over a chart at the counter, half focused, half just trying to keep up with everything happening around you.

“you’re behind on room three.”

you didn’t even look up at first. “i know,” you muttered, flipping the page. “i’m getting to it.”

“you said that ten minutes ago.” you glanced up this time, already knowing who it was.

dana stood across from you, arms loosely crossed, watching you with that look. not annoyed exactly. just… observant.

you rolled your eyes a little. “wow, thanks for the reminder.”

“just doing my job,” she said, but there was a small hint of something there. almost like she was holding back a smile.

you shook your head, grabbing your pen. “yeah, yeah.”

you walked past her to head toward the next room, brushing her arm lightly as you did. it was quick. subtle. no one would really notice unless they were looking for it.

but she did.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel it. the way her eyes followed you for just a second longer than they should’ve.

it was small things like that.

nothing obvious. nothing that would get either of you in trouble. just quiet moments, quick glances, little touches that didn’t mean anything to anyone else. but meant everything to you.

you made your way down the hall, glancing at the chart again before stepping into the room.

the patient was already sitting up, clearly irritated. tapping his fingers against the side of the bed, jaw tight.

great…

“hey,” you said, keeping your voice calm as you walked in. “i’m just here to check on you, okay?”

he didn’t answer right away. just stared at you. til he finally spoke. “took you long enough.”

you ignored the tone, moving a little closer. “i know the wait’s been frustrating. we’re a little backed up tonight, but i just need to—”

“a little?” he cut in, voice getting louder. “i’ve been here for hours.”

you nodded slightly, trying to keep things steady. “i understand, but yelling isn’t going to help. i just need to check your vitals and—”

“no one’s helped me,” he snapped.

you exhaled quietly, still trying. “i’m here now. let me just—”

it happened fast. one second you were reaching for the equipment then the next his hand shot out.

grabbing you.

your breath caught as his grip tightened, fingers pressing hard against your throat before you could even react properly.

“hey—” you choked out, hands coming up instinctively, trying to push him back.

it didn’t work his grip only tightened.

your heart started racing, air catching in your chest as panic set in way too quickly. everything felt too loud and too quiet at the same time. “let go—” your voice barely came out.

you tried again, hands shaking now, trying to get him off you but he was stronger, and your vision started to blur just slightly at the edges. you couldn’t breathe right.

but then suddenly the doors slammed open. “hey!”

everything happened fast after that. the grip was now gone.

your body jerked forward as air rushed back into your lungs, coughing, trying to breathe again, your hands still shaking.

you looked up just in time to see it, dana had punched the guy. pretty hard too. you were catching your breath and couldn’t even process what just happened.

the patient stumbled back in shock, and that’s when everything else rushed in security, voices, people pulling him away, the room suddenly too full, too loud.

but dana didn’t look at any of them. she was looking at you.

already moving toward you, her expression shifting just slightly, the anger still there but something else breaking through it now.

“hey,” she said, softer, reaching you in seconds. “look at me.”

your breathing was uneven, chest tight as you tried to calm down, still a little shaken. “i—i’m fine,” you managed, even though your voice didn’t really sound like you.

she didn’t buy it. of course she didn’t.

her hand hovered near your arm for a second, like she wanted to check but didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“come on,” she said quietly. not a suggestion. her hand gently guided you toward the door, away from the chaos, away from everyone else.

this time you didn’t argue and just let her. you didn’t say anything as she led you down the hall. everything still felt a little off. your chest tight, your hands shaky, like your body hadn’t caught up yet. dana didn’t stop until you were in an empty exam room.

she shut the door behind you, a little harder than usual, then turned back to you immediately. “sit.”

you hesitated for a second, then did, lowering yourself onto the bed. she moved closer right away, not wasting time, her eyes already scanning your face, your neck, your shoulders.

“let me see,” she said, quieter now.

“i’m fine,” you stated, automatically.

“don’t,”

you went quiet after she said and a second later she slowly, she reached up, fingers gentle this time as she tilted your chin slightly, checking your neck.

there it was. a faint mark already forming where his hand had been. you saw the exact moment she noticed. her jaw tightened.

“he grabbed you too hard,” she muttered, more to herself than you.

you swallowed. “it’s not that bad—”

“it is.” her hand stayed there for a second longer, thumb brushing lightly over the spot like she was checking how bad it was.

the touch was so gentle it almost didn’t match what just happened.

“you should’ve called for me,” she said after a second. “or said hula hoop you know we always say that.”

you let out a small breath. “i had it under control—”

“i don’t care.”

that made you pause and you looked up at her. her eyes were on you now, not the injury. “i don’t care if you had it under control,” she said, quieter this time. “you call me.”

your chest tightened a little, but not in a bad way. “…okay,” you murmured.

she exhaled slowly, like she was trying to calm herself down now that everything had stopped. “you’re okay,” she said.

it wasn’t a question. just… reassurance.

her hand dropped from your neck, but she didn’t step away. not yet. “i’ve got you,” she added, almost under her breath she pulled your body closer to hers and hugged you. she even gave you a kiss on your forehead.

she really was the best girlfriend ever

GUYS! im back hahah!! i just wanna say thank you for all the love i’ve gotten on this account! i appreciate you all sm!!! here’s a small thing w dana!! I LITERALLY LOVE HER SO MUCHHH UGHHH!! (guys can you let me know if im doing well in the characters?? like if im writing them well?? does this seem like a dana vibe?? i just rlly wanna make sure I get the characters vibe right) and i’ve got more fanfics coming up! probably gonna post one or two later today!! very excited to write them!! guys it’s been a busy week so im sorry for not being active also this upcoming week will also be busy probs because i literally have ACT testing… and im so fucking scared please pray for me and hope i pass. ANYWAYYY hope you guys liked and don’t forget to send more requests for the pitt!! love you all so so much <3

also this is not proofread… heh

[youtendtoforget-deactivated2025]

I’m ready to be transformed by the ibuprofen . I’m ready to be born again in its purifying light.

[dana-evans-book]

Chapter Five: Three Weeks Later

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Three weeks changed everything.

Not all at once.

Not in some dramatic, life-flipping moment.

Just… slowly.

Quietly.

Like something settling into place whether you were ready for it or not.

---

You stared at your phone, rereading the message for what had to be the tenth time.

Trin: She’s outside. Smoke break. If you’re gonna do this, now’s your window.

Your stomach dropped.

Of course she would phrase it like that.

Your window.

Like this was some kind of timed opportunity you could miss if you hesitated too long.

Which—knowing Trinity Santos—it probably was.

You exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down your face.

“Okay,” you muttered. “Okay.”

Because this wasn’t out of nowhere.

Not really.

---

A week ago—

You’d been sitting on your bed, knees pulled to your chest, phone pressed to your ear.

“I think I’m keeping it.”

The words had come out quieter than you expected.

But once they were out—

They felt… right.

Not easy.

Definitely not simple.

But right.

On the other end of the line, Santos had gone quiet for a second.

“…Okay,” she said finally.

You huffed. “Wow. You and her really love that word.”

“That’s because it covers a lot,” she shot back. Then, softer— “Are you sure?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

A pause.

Then—

“Alright,” Santos said. “Then we figure it out.”

And she meant it.

She always did.

---

Now—

A week later—

You were standing across the street from the hospital, heart racing like you were about to walk into something you couldn’t walk back out of.

Because you were.

Again.

Only this time, you knew what you were going to say.

Which somehow made it worse.

---

Your phone buzzed again.

Trin: Don’t overthink it.

You immediately typed back:

You: Too late.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then—

Trin: She’s by the side entrance. Blue bench.

You looked up.

And there it was.

The side entrance you hadn’t noticed before.

A little out of the way. Less traffic. Less noise.

Of course that’s where she’d go.

---

Your feet moved before your brain could catch up.

Across the street.

Down the sidewalk.

Closer.

Closer.

And then—

You saw her.

Dana Evans sat on the bench, elbows resting on her knees, a cigarette burning between her fingers.

Her posture was different than it was inside.

Less rigid.

Still controlled—but looser. Like she let herself drop the weight just a little when no one was watching.

She stared out ahead, lost in thought.

Didn’t notice you.

Not yet.

Your steps slowed.

Because suddenly—

This felt real in a way it hadn’t before.

This wasn’t a hallway confrontation.

This wasn’t rushed or chaotic.

This was intentional.

And that made your chest tighten.

---

You stopped a few feet away.

“…Hey.”

Dana’s head turned instantly.

Her expression shifted the second she saw you—surprise first, then something softer underneath it.

“Hey,” she said, straightening slightly.

You glanced down at the cigarette, then back at her. “Didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t,” she replied.

You raised a brow.

She held your gaze for a second, then added, “Not usually.”

“…Bad day?”

A quiet huff left her. “Something like that.”

You nodded, stepping a little closer—but not too close.

There was still that space between you.

Unspoken.

Uncertain.

---

“You okay?” Dana asked after a moment, her tone shifting—more attentive now.

You nodded automatically. “Yeah. I mean—yeah.”

She didn’t look convinced.

But she didn’t push.

Instead, she tapped the cigarette lightly against the edge of the bench, eyes flicking back to you.

“You didn’t come all the way here just to ask about my questionable coping mechanisms,” she said.

A small, nervous smile tugged at your lips. “No. I didn’t.”

Silence settled for a second.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… waiting.

---

“I told Trinity,” you said finally.

Dana’s posture shifted slightly at that. “Yeah?”

“Last week.”

“And?”

You took a breath.

This was it.

No blurting it out in a crowded ER.

No panic.

Just… saying it.

“I’m keeping it.”

The words landed softer this time.

But they hit just as hard.

---

Dana didn’t respond right away.

Her gaze dropped briefly—to the ground, to the cigarette in her hand—before she crushed it out against the metal edge of the bench.

Buying time.

That familiar habit.

Then she looked back up at you.

And this time—

There was no distance.

No hospital wall between you.

Just her.

“…Okay,” she said.

You let out a breath, a small laugh slipping through. “There it is again.”

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly.

But she didn’t stop there this time.

Her jaw tightened slightly, like she was choosing her next words more carefully.

“You’re sure,” she said—not questioning. Just confirming.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A beat.

Then—

Dana leaned back slightly, exhaling through her nose.

Processing.

Not shutting down.

Just… taking it in.

---

“Alright,” she said after a moment.

Your chest tightened again. “That’s still very vague.”

“I know,” she said, almost apologetic. “I’m working on it.”

That softened something in you.

“Take your time,” you said quietly.

Her eyes flicked up at that.

Something about your tone.

Something steady.

---

“I meant what I said,” Dana continued. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded, slower this time. “I remember.”

“And I still mean it.”

There was more weight behind it now.

Because now there was a decision attached.

A future.

Not just a possibility.

---

A breeze moved through the space between you, light but enough to break the stillness.

Cars passed somewhere in the distance.

Inside the hospital, everything kept moving like normal.

But out here—

It felt like time had slowed just enough for this moment to exist on its own.

---

“I don’t expect you to have everything figured out,” you said after a second. “I don’t either.”

Dana huffed faintly. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

Then—

“But I wanted to tell you in person,” you added. “Not… like last time.”

That earned the smallest hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” she said. “This is better.”

---

You shifted your weight slightly, glancing at the bench.

“Can I—?”

Dana moved her hand immediately, giving you space.

“Yeah.”

You sat beside her.

Not too close.

But not far either.

---

For a minute, neither of you spoke.

You just sat there.

Side by side.

Letting the reality of it settle in without forcing it into words.

---

“…We’re really doing this,” you said quietly.

Dana let out a slow breath beside you.

“Yeah,” she replied.

Not scared.

Not overwhelmed.

Just honest.

---

And somehow—

That made it feel possible.

[alliewrights]

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who notices your patient's hand on your arm from across the department and is immediately bothered by it. Even moreso when you don't pull away because you're too focused on the task at hand.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who has never considered herself a jealous person, but something about this particular patients attention on you gets under her skin.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who is painfully aware that she's feeling this way because of her own rules. She was the one who insisted your relationship remain private at work. Logical at the time, but unbearable now that she has no leg to stand on, no claim to you while someone else is touching you.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who finds herself trailing after you the next time she sees you heading toward that patient's bay, even when it's not her case. And when you have the nerve to look surprised, she coolly reminds you that she is the attending on shift and is therefore responsible for patient oversight.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who immediately regrets it, because up close the flirting is even worse. Your patient is throwing you lingering looks and words filled with implications and hope and completely ignoring Baran's presence at all.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who has to physically reign herself in when the patient touches you again as she thanks you.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who does something both impulsive and deeply uncharacteristic when she moves to pass by you, both hands settling on either side of your waist to hold you steady, leaning just close enough to mumble "excuse me, Eshgham" in acknowledgement.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who feels you go still in surprise beneath her hand and has to force herself not to smile triumphantly.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who notices the patient taking notice of the change in the air, her smile faltering on her face as she looks between the two of you.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who does not wait for you out in the hallway as she exits the curtain. By the time you follow her out, she’s already halfway down the hallway, every inch of her back to the composed attending everyone knows.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who doesn’t say another word to you as she leaves you blushing and stunned at her total 180 - which of course is when you notice Dana watching from the nurses’ station over the rim of her glasses.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who has apparently not been nearly as discreet as she thought, because Dana’s expression is pure knew it, topped off with an eyebrow arched high enough to be felt from across the department.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who says nothing about it afterward and offers no explanation, because she doesn’t need to. The message was received, loud and clear. And the permanent smirk on her face for the rest of the shift tells you that you’ll be getting a very firm reminder of who you belong to later at home.

Jealous!Baran Al-Hashimi who knows you won’t be allowing another patient to touch you like that after tonight, when your body is sore and her handprints are permanently seared into your skin.

[dana-evans-book]

Chapter Four: Quiet Between Storms

Previous chapter

Masterlist

The apartment settled into a kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty.

Just… full.

Not with noise—but with everything neither of you had figured out how to say yet.

You sat at the small table, fingers loosely wrapped around your fork, staring down at the plate in front of you like it might have answers written into it.

Across from you, Dana Evans leaned back slightly in her chair, watching you in that careful, observant way she had.

Not intrusive.

Just… present.

“You should eat,” she said after a moment.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts. “I am eating.”

“You’ve moved the same piece of food around your plate three times.”

“…I’m thinking.”

“I can tell.”

There wasn’t any judgment in her voice. If anything, there was something quieter. Softer.

You let out a small breath and finally took a bite.

It grounded you more than you expected.

Warm. Real. Simple.

Not like anything else about today.

“…This is actually really good,” you admitted.

Dana shrugged slightly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s basic.”

“It’s better than cereal.”

That earned the faintest hint of a smile.

“Low bar,” she said.

“Still counts.”

---

Silence slipped back in—but it wasn’t as sharp now.

You ate slower this time, actually tasting it. Letting your body catch up to everything your brain had been sprinting through all day.

Dana didn’t rush you.

Didn’t push.

She ate too—methodical, quiet, like she was used to grabbing meals in the middle of chaos and not thinking much about them.

For a while, that’s all it was.

Just two people at a table.

Eating.

Breathing.

Existing in the same space without trying to solve everything all at once.

---

“You cook a lot?” you asked after a few minutes, mostly to fill the quiet.

Dana shook her head slightly. “Not really.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I know enough to get by,” she said. “Comes in handy when I forget to eat all day.”

You glanced at her. “Which happens a lot?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“…More than it should,” she admitted.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“No?”

“You seem like the kind of person who takes care of everyone else first.”

Dana’s gaze flicked up to yours.

Held it.

“…Occupational hazard,” she said lightly—but there was truth underneath it.

You nodded, picking at your food again.

“Still,” you added, quieter, “someone should be making sure you eat too.”

Something shifted in her expression at that.

Subtle.

But there.

“I manage,” she said.

You didn’t push.

---

Another stretch of quiet followed—but it felt… easier now.

Less like you were waiting for the next hard thing to be said.

More like you were both catching your breath between them.

Your eyes drifted back to her without really meaning to.

She looked different here.

Not because she was trying to.

But because she wasn’t on.

At the hospital, everything about her had been controlled—focused, sharp, locked into place.

Here—

She was still composed. Still steady.

But there were cracks.

Exhaustion in the way her shoulders sat a little lower.

Tension she wasn’t actively hiding.

It made her feel more real.

More reachable.

---

“You’re staring,” Dana said, not looking up from her plate.

You startled slightly. “I am not—”

“You are.”

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

That got another small flicker of a smile.

“What?” she asked.

You hesitated, then shrugged. “You’re different here.”

That made her pause.

“Different how?”

“Less…” You searched for the right word. “Untouchable.”

Dana let out a quiet breath through her nose. “That’s not usually the word people go with.”

“What do they go with?”

“Intimidating.”

You tilted your head. “You are that too.”

She huffed faintly. “Good to know.”

“But not right now,” you added.

Her eyes lifted to yours again.

And this time, she held the look a second longer.

“…No,” she said quietly. “Not right now.”

---

Something about that made your chest tighten.

Not in a bad way.

Just… unfamiliar.

You looked back down at your plate, taking another bite just to give yourself something to do.

Because if you stayed in that moment too long, you might start overthinking it.

And you were already doing enough of that.

---

“Hey,” Dana said after a bit.

You looked up.

“You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

Your shoulders dropped slightly, tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding loosening just a little.

“I know,” you said. “I just—my brain won’t shut up.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I get that.”

A beat passed.

Then—

“One step at a time,” she added.

There it was again.

You couldn’t help it—you smiled a little.

“Okay.”

Dana raised an eyebrow.

You sighed. “I’m not even gonna comment on it this time.”

“Smart choice.”

---

The rest of the meal went slower.

Easier.

You talked more—but not about the big, overwhelming things.

Small things.

Where you grew up.

Random stories.

The kind of conversation that didn’t carry the weight of everything else hanging between you.

And somehow—

That helped more than anything.

---

By the time you both finished eating, the tension hadn’t disappeared.

But it had softened.

Shifted into something you could actually sit with instead of being crushed under.

Dana gathered the plates without asking, moving toward the sink like it was automatic.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, standing halfway.

“I know.”

“You cooked.”

“And now I’m cleaning,” she replied simply.

You watched her for a second.

Then sat back down.

Because arguing with her about it felt pointless.

---

Water ran quietly in the sink.

The normalcy of it felt strange.

Comforting.

Like for a few minutes, the world had narrowed down to something manageable.

Something small.

Something you could breathe in.

---

When Dana turned back around, drying her hands on a towel, she didn’t immediately sit.

She leaned lightly against the counter instead, looking at you.

Not expectant.

Not pushing.

Just… there.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said.

Not a question.

Not a promise she couldn’t keep.

Just something steady.

Something real.

You held her gaze.

“…Yeah,” you said quietly.

And for now—

That was enough.

[dana-evans-book]

Chapter Three: Off the Clock

M.list

Prev

Next Chapter

The hallway outside your apartment was too quiet.

It made everything louder.

Your heartbeat. Your breathing. The way your hand tightened around the edge of the door like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

And her.

Dana Evans stood there, shoulders slightly slumped, exhaustion etched into her face in a way that hadn’t been as visible under hospital lights.

She looked… human.

Not untouchable. Not perfectly in control.

Just tired.

“…Can I come in?” she asked.

Not a demand.

Not even confident.

Just… careful.

You hesitated.

Not because you didn’t want her there—but because you weren’t sure what version of this conversation you were about to get.

Hospital Dana?

Or the one from that night?

“…Yeah,” you said finally, stepping back.

She nodded once, quietly, and walked past you.

---

Your apartment felt smaller with her in it.

Not in a bad way.

Just… fuller.

Dana paused just inside, taking a second to look around like she was grounding herself—like she needed to be sure this was real and not just another extension of her shift.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Then—

“I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “What?”

Dana ran a hand over the back of her neck, exhaling slowly. “For earlier. At the hospital.”

That wasn’t what you expected.

“I didn’t handle that well,” she continued. “I know that.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly. “You told me to stop talking.”

“I did,” she admitted. “Because if I didn’t, you were about to tell half my department my personal life in real time.”

“…Yeah,” you muttered. “That wasn’t exactly the plan.”

A corner of her mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close.

Then it faded.

“I wasn’t trying to shut you down,” she said more seriously. “I just… needed control of the situation.”

That tracked.

Of course it did.

She was her.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I figured.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

Neither of you quite knew how to bridge the gap.

So Dana did what she always did when things got complicated—

She focused on the facts.

“You’re sure?” she asked again, gentler this time.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“How far along?”

“A week. Maybe a little more.”

Dana inhaled slowly, processing.

You could practically see the gears turning—clinical, methodical, the way someone trained to assess situations under pressure would.

But this wasn’t a patient.

This was you.

And that made it different.

“…Okay,” she said again, softer now.

You let out a small, frustrated laugh. “You really like that word.”

Dana huffed faintly. “It’s a good word.”

“It’s a vague word.”

“It’s a buying time word.”

That—

That actually made you pause.

“…Oh.”

She met your eyes.

“Yeah.”

---

The tension shifted slightly after that.

Not gone.

But… less sharp.

More real.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted after a moment. “I didn’t even know if you’d—remember me.”

Dana didn’t hesitate. “I remember you.”

Your chest tightened a little at how immediate that was.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was steady, certain. “That wasn’t… forgettable.”

Heat crept up your neck despite everything.

“Good to know,” you mumbled.

Another pause.

Then—

“Why didn’t you call?” she asked.

You blinked. “I—what?”

“I gave you my number,” Dana said, brow furrowing slightly. “Before we left.”

You stared at her.

“…You did?”

Now it was her turn to pause.

“You don’t remember?”

You shook your head slowly. “No.”

Dana exhaled through her nose, something almost like disbelief flickering across her face.

“…I wrote it on your hand.”

Oh.

Oh god.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Okay—yeah—that explains a lot.”

“What happened?”

“I washed my hands?” you said, like it should be obvious. “Multiple times. It was a whole night. Things happened.”

That earned a real reaction—a quiet, tired laugh.

“Right,” she muttered. “Of course you did.”

“Sorry,” you added, a little sheepish now.

“Not your fault.”

But something about that seemed to settle a question she hadn’t voiced.

She wasn’t ignored.

You just… never got the chance.

---

Silence fell again—but it felt different now.

Less like a standoff.

More like… two people trying to figure out something neither of them expected.

“So,” you said finally, shifting your weight. “What now?”

Dana looked at you.

Really looked at you.

Not like she had at the hospital—quick, assessing, controlled.

But fully.

Present.

“…That depends,” she said carefully.

“On what?”

“On what you want.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Honest.

Terrifying.

Real.

Dana nodded slowly. “Okay.”

You let out a breath. “That’s it? No speech? No… reaction?”

She held your gaze.

“I’m trying not to make this about what I want before I know where you stand,” she said.

That—

That was… not what you expected.

“I mean, I want to know what you’re thinking,” you admitted.

Dana looked away briefly, like choosing her words mattered more than usual.

“It’s not simple,” she said.

“I didn’t think it would be.”

A small, almost humorless smile flickered across her face.

“Good.”

She leaned back slightly, arms crossing—not defensive, just grounding.

“I’m not someone who walks away from things like this,” she continued. “That’s not how I’m wired.”

Your chest tightened again—but this time, not in a bad way.

“And I’m not going to pretend this is nothing,” she added. “Because it’s not.”

“No,” you said softly. “It’s really not.”

Another pause.

Then—

“But,” Dana said, more gently now, “this also isn’t something we figure out in one conversation. Or one night.”

You nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“We take it one step at a time.”

“…Okay,” you said, a little smile slipping through despite everything.

Dana raised an eyebrow. “See? Good word.”

You huffed a quiet laugh.

---

The tension didn’t disappear.

But it changed.

Shifted into something steadier. Less panicked.

More… grounded.

Dana glanced toward your kitchen. “Have you eaten?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Today,” she clarified. “Have you eaten?”

“…I had cereal.”

“This morning?”

“…Yeah.”

Dana sighed, already moving. “Unbelievable.”

You watched her head into your kitchen like she’d been there a hundred times instead of zero.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t pass out while we’re having a life-altering conversation,” she called back.

Despite everything—

You smiled.

---

Maybe this wasn’t how you pictured things going.

Maybe it was messy and unexpected and a little overwhelming.

But as you leaned against the doorway, watching Dana Evans move around your kitchen like she’d quietly decided to stay—

It didn’t feel like a mistake.

Not entirely.

---

Later, when she finally sat back down across from you, two plates in hand, she didn’t rush the conversation.

Didn’t push.

Just—

Stayed.

And for now—

That was enough.

[dana-evans-book]

After the Shift

Chapter Two: The Wrong Way to Say It

Prev

M.list

Next chapter

The hospital looked different when you weren’t a visitor.

Too bright. Too loud. Too… real.

You stood just outside the ER doors, heart pounding so hard it made your chest ache. People moved in and out like it was nothing—nurses with charts, EMTs pushing stretchers, families hovering in that anxious, helpless way.

This was her world.

And you were about to walk straight into it.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself. “You can do this.”

You couldn’t.

But you stepped inside anyway.

---

The first thing you noticed was the pace.

No one stood still. Conversations overlapped, monitors beeped, phones rang—controlled chaos, the kind that somehow worked.

And then—

You saw her.

Dana Evans stood at the main station, posture straight, expression focused, flipping through a chart while talking to two nurses at once. Calm. Controlled. Like the night you met her hadn’t happened at all.

Like you hadn’t happened.

Your stomach twisted.

“That’s her,” you whispered.

Beside you, Trinity Santos closed her eyes briefly, already regretting everything.

“Okay,” Santos said under her breath, grabbing your arm before you could take another step. “Listen to me. You are not going to march up there and—”

“I have to tell her.”

“Yes. Eventually. Not like this.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t just—wait. I’ve been freaking out for days, Trin, I can’t just schedule this.”

Santos pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god.”

You pulled away before she could stop you.

“Hey—!”

Too late.

---

Dana didn’t notice you at first.

Why would she?

She was mid-conversation, already juggling three things at once.

“…labs need to be repeated in an hour, and I want eyes on—”

“Dana.”

Her name cut through everything.

Not loud—but sharp enough to make her pause.

She looked up.

Recognition hit almost instantly.

It flickered across her face—quick, controlled, but there.

“…Hey,” she said, more cautious than surprised.

That hurt more than it should have.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly very aware of the fact that everyone within a ten-foot radius could hear you.

Great.

Perfect.

No pressure.

“I, um—can we talk?”

Dana glanced around the station. Patients. Staff. Timing.

Now wasn’t—

“I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Complete, suffocating silence.

You didn’t even realize you’d said it that loud until every nearby conversation just… stopped.

Oh.

Oh no.

Behind you, Santos made a noise that sounded like her soul leaving her body.

Dana didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

For a second, you thought maybe she hadn’t heard you.

Then her jaw tightened.

“…What?”

Heat rushed to your face. “I—I took two tests. They were both positive, and I—look, I didn’t know how else to tell you, and—”

“Okay.” Dana held up a hand.

Not harsh.

But firm.

Professional.

“I need you to stop talking.”

That shut you up instantly.

Not because of the words—but because of the tone.

It wasn’t the voice she used with you at the bar.

It was the one she used here.

At work.

Where she was in control.

“Evans—” one of the nurses started, clearly unsure whether to intervene or disappear.

“I’ve got it,” Dana said, not taking her eyes off you.

Her expression had shifted completely now. Not cold—but… closed off. Focused in a way that made your chest tighten.

She stepped out from behind the desk.

“Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

---

Santos watched the two of you go, hands on her hips.

“…Yeah,” she muttered. “That’s exactly how I pictured that going.”

(It wasn’t.)

---

The hallway was quieter.

Not silent—but far enough from the main floor that the weight of what just happened could settle.

Dana stopped walking.

Turned to face you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Up close, you could see the faint bruising still lingering along her cheekbone. Yellowed now, fading—but still there.

A reminder.

Of the night everything started.

“…Say it again,” she said finally.

Her voice was steady.

Too steady.

Your throat felt dry. “I’m pregnant.”

Dana exhaled slowly, looking away for a second like she was recalibrating.

Processing.

You watched it happen in real time—the way she compartmentalized, the way she forced emotion down in favor of something more manageable.

More controlled.

“…Okay,” she said after a moment.

That wasn’t the reaction you expected.

“Okay?” you repeated.

“What do you want me to say?” Dana asked, not unkindly—but not soft, either.

“I don’t know!” Your voice cracked despite your best effort. “Something other than okay?”

Her eyes flicked back to you.

And for a split second—

You saw it.

Not panic. Not anger.

Just… a crack in the armor.

“I’m at work,” she said quietly. “I can’t—react the way you want me to right now.”

That… made sense.

Didn’t make it feel any better.

“I just thought you should know,” you muttered, suddenly wishing you could take the entire interaction back.

Redo it.

Do it right.

Dana nodded once. “You did the right thing.”

Another pause.

Then—

“Are you sure?” she asked.

You blinked. “What?”

“The tests,” she clarified. “Were they—”

“Yes,” you cut in, a little sharper than you meant to. “I’m sure.”

She nodded again, slower this time.

“Okay.”

There it was again.

That word.

You hated that word.

“Okay,” you echoed, stepping back. “Cool. Great. Glad we had this talk.”

“Y/N—”

“I’m gonna go,” you said quickly.

Because if you stayed, you might cry.

And you refused to cry in the middle of a hospital hallway in front of her.

Dana didn’t try to stop you.

That hurt, too.

---

You were halfway out the doors before Santos caught up with you.

“Hey—hey, wait—”

“I told her,” you said, not slowing down.

“I noticed!”

You pushed outside into the cool air, finally breathing like your lungs worked again.

“That was a scene,” Santos added, slightly out of breath.

“I didn’t mean for it to be!”

“I know,” she said, softer now. “I know.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring out at the parking lot.

“She didn’t even react.”

Santos hesitated. “That’s not true.”

“It felt like it.”

“She’s… not good at that,” Santos admitted. “Especially not at work.”

You swallowed. “Yeah. I noticed.”

There was a long pause.

“…You wanna come over?” Santos offered.

You shook your head. “No. I just—I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Okay.” She squeezed your shoulder. “Text me when you get home.”

“Yeah.”

---

Dana didn’t go back to work right away.

She stood in that hallway long after you left, staring at nothing.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in her head, louder than any monitor alarm.

“Evans.”

She blinked, snapping back as Santos appeared at the end of the hall.

“You good?” Santos asked carefully.

Dana let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“…No.”

Santos nodded. “Yeah. That tracks.”

A beat.

Then—

“You gonna go after her?”

Dana looked toward the exit.

Thought about it.

About you.

About the look on your face when you walked away.

“…I can’t leave right now,” she said finally. “Not yet.”

Santos studied her for a second.

Then nodded.

“Don’t take too long.”

---

It was almost 10 p.m. when the knocking started.

You weren’t expecting anyone.

You almost didn’t answer.

But something in your chest told you to get up anyway.

Slowly, you made your way to the door, heart starting to race again for reasons you couldn’t explain.

You opened it.

And there she was.

Dana Evans stood on your doorstep, still in her scrubs, exhaustion written into every line of her posture.

But she was there.

Not at work.

Not behind a desk.

Just… her.

Her eyes met yours.

And this time—

There was no distance in them.

“…Can I come in?” she asked.

[dana-evans-book]

Chapter One: Triage

OP notes: not 100% accurate this is fanfiction book based on the tv show the pitt so there will be Inaccuracies just an fyi

Masterlist

Next Chapter

The ER didn’t slow down.

It never did—but tonight felt different. Heavier. Like the walls themselves were holding their breath and failing.

Dana Evans had been on her feet for… she didn’t even know anymore. Twelve hours? Fourteen? Time blurred when the department tipped from “busy” into barely holding it together.

“Evans!”

She turned before the voice even finished her name, already moving.

A man in his forties—red-faced, sweating, pacing—was shouting at the front desk nurse. Loud. Aggressive. The kind of patient who thought volume translated to priority.

“I’ve been waiting for two hours—this is bullshit—”

Dana stepped in smoothly, voice calm, firm. “Sir, I need you to lower your voice.”

“I need a doctor!”

“You need to stop yelling at my staff.”

That was the moment it shifted.

His arm moved fast—faster than she expected—and suddenly—

Impact.

A sharp crack across her cheek. The taste of iron hit her tongue before the pain fully registered.

The ER stilled for half a second.

Then chaos.

Security. Shouting. Someone grabbing the man. A nurse swearing under her breath.

Dana didn’t fall. Didn’t even step back.

She just stood there, jaw tight, eyes locked forward like if she moved even an inch, the whole night would swallow her whole.

“I’m fine,” she said, before anyone could ask.

She wasn’t.

But there wasn’t time to not be.

---

Two hours later, the ambulance bay exploded.

“MULTIPLE INCOMING—PITTFEST—STAMPede—UNKNOWN NUMBERS—”

Of course it was.

Of course it was tonight.

Dana pressed the heel of her hand briefly against her throbbing cheek, already turning toward the doors as stretchers started flooding in.

“Alright—listen up!” Her voice cut clean through the noise. “Triage at the entrance. Critical to trauma one and two. Everyone else, we stabilize and move. No one stands still unless I tell you to—go!”

And they did.

Because when Dana Evans spoke, people moved.

---

The next few hours were a blur of blood, shouting, and controlled panic.

A teenage girl with a crushed ankle screaming for her mom.

A guy barely conscious, ribs moving wrong under his skin.

A kid—too young—clutching a PittFest wristband like it might anchor him to something normal.

Dana moved between them all like she was built for it. Orders. Assessments. Decisions that couldn’t be undone.

No hesitation.

No space to think about the ache in her face. Or the way her hands shook just slightly when no one was looking.

---

By the time it slowed—really slowed—the ER looked like a battlefield after the fighting stopped.

Exhaustion hit all at once.

Dana leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, head tipping forward for just a second.

“Hey.”

She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Trinity Santos nudged her shoulder lightly.

“You’re still standing,” Santos said. “That’s impressive.”

Dana huffed. “Barely.”

Santos studied her face—specifically the bruising already forming along her cheekbone. “You should’ve gotten that checked.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that like ten times tonight.”

Dana didn’t answer.

Because if she stopped to actually think about it—the punch, the chaos, the way everything had stacked on top of each other—

She might not get back up.

Santos sighed, softer now. “We’re going out.”

Dana blinked. “We’re what?”

“Drinks. A few of us. You’re coming.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Santos cut in. “Before you go home and sit in the dark replaying everything like you always do.”

Dana gave her a look. “That is not—”

“It is exactly what you do.”

A beat.

Then, quieter—

“Come on, Evans. Just one night where you’re not the one holding everything together.”

Dana hesitated.

God, she was tired.

“…One drink,” she muttered.

Santos grinned. “That’s all it takes.”

---

The bar was dim, loud, and blessedly not a hospital.

Dana sat at the edge of the group, drink in hand, letting the noise wash over her. Conversations overlapped, laughter breaking through the exhaustion like cracks in concrete.

For the first time all day—she wasn’t in charge.

Didn’t have to be.

She took a slow sip, shoulders finally loosening—

—and that’s when she noticed you.

Across the bar.

You weren’t part of their group. Younger—definitely younger. Sitting with a drink you hadn’t touched much, scrolling your phone like you were debating whether to stay or leave.

Something about you pulled her attention.

Maybe it was the way you looked slightly out of place.

Maybe it was the way you glanced up—and your eyes met hers.

And didn’t look away.

Dana held the gaze for a second longer than she should have.

Then two.

Then—

She stood.

“Be right back,” she muttered to no one in particular.

Santos clocked it immediately, smirking into her glass.

---

“Seat taken?”

Your head snapped up slightly as Dana approached, voice low but steady.

Up close, she looked… older than you. Not in a bad way. Just… grounded. Worn in the way people get when they’ve lived through things.

And, yeah—very attractive.

“No,” you said quickly. “Go ahead.”

She slid into the seat across from you, setting her drink down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“Long night?” you asked, gesturing vaguely toward her.

Dana huffed a quiet laugh. “You could say that.”

There was a pause.

Then you smiled—soft, a little nervous. “You look like you could use a distraction.”

Dana tilted her head slightly.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Maybe I could.”

---

You never planned to go home with her.

It just… happened.

One drink turned into two. Conversation got easier. Lighter. You made her laugh—really laugh—like something unclenched in her chest.

She didn’t tell you much about work. You didn’t press.

It didn’t matter.

Because for a few hours, she wasn’t the charge nurse holding an ER together.

She was just—

Dana.

---

Your apartment was quiet when you stumbled in, the world outside fading away the second the door shut.

There was a moment.

That pause.

The are we really doing this?

Dana’s hand brushed yours—hesitant, like she was giving you an out.

You didn’t take it.

And that was answer enough.

---

Fade to black.

---

One week later.

---

You stared at the test in your hand.

Then at the second one.

Then back again.

“…No way.”

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

Positive.

Both of them.

Your heart pounded so loud it felt like it might shake the walls.

This wasn’t—

This couldn’t—

You sat down hard on the edge of your bed, mind racing.

There was only one person you could think to call.

---

“Okay, start from the beginning,” your sister said.

You paced your apartment, phone pressed to your ear. “It was just—one night, okay? I didn’t even think—”

“Clearly.”

“Trinity—”

“I’m listening,” she said, though you could hear the edge of concern underneath.

You exhaled shakily. “She was older. Confident. Dark hair. Kind of intense but… not in a bad way. Like she’s used to being in charge of everything.”

There was a pause.

“…Where did you meet her?”

“A bar near the hospital.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

“…Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“About what??”

Your sister inhaled slowly.

“You didn’t get her name?”

“…Dana.”

Silence.

Then—

“Yeah,” Trinity said flatly. “You need to come to the hospital.”

Your stomach dropped. “Why?”

“Because,” she said, already sounding like she was regretting her life choices, “I’m about 99% sure you slept with my charge nurse.”

You froze.

“…what?”

[maximoffwitch]

guard dog wife emery walsh at a concert/festival with oblivious wife >>>>

oh i can absolutely see this. guard dog emery x sunshine oblivious reader

emery is naturally protective but her guard dog senses are heightened at a festival, where you’re so oblivious to everything because you’re just concerned about having a good time.

you are flouting around wanting to try all the food and talk to all the people, and emery’s just eyeing them all and making sure trouble doesn’t find you or you don’t get lost lol.

when a guy starts to flirt with you, you think he’s just being nice (bc, again, sunshine and oblivious) so you just nod along but emery immediately clocks him and steps in, baring her teeth.

[incorrectswarlaquotes]

Lisa: When I try to think of my future, I just see your face over and over again.

Carla: Well, it’s a very beautiful face.

[scleroticstatue]

Yes, that is my circus, and, yes, those are my monkeys, but I am not on shift yet.

[the-beard-of-edward-teach]

[getlostsquidward]

practice kissing

pairing: dana evans x reader

a/n: this is just a word vomit of how much i want her gawddd

getting teased by santos about you being a virgin. annoying victoria by saying you should practice with each other. or with mel. or even with dennis. donnie, mateo, even princess are setting you up with people they know.

somebody already put up a betting grid on when you would get your first kiss. 

it would probably be fun, and you would even get on the bet if you were still in university, but here in the place you work, you feel quite the opposite. 

especially around your superiors—your charge nurse in particular, whom you have had your eye on for quite a while.

fuck.

it doesn't help that she would stop the others from teasing the hell out of you, only for her to give you quips of her own with that low gravel of her voice that you definitely don't fantasize about.

“don't listen to them, sweetheart. you don't need to rush. the right person will come for you.”

“they're setting you up with that girl from cardio? honey, you can do better than that.”

the longer it drags on, the more…suggestive they become, and in your lust-addled brain, you like to think she’s insinuating something you’ve only been dreaming of. 

“you want to be with someone older the first time. teach ya things, y’know?”

the rational part of your brain tells you not to overthink it, but the seeds she’s been planting in your mind make it hard not to. not only that, but dana’s touches have been lingering more frequently.

she once saw cat hair on your top, and made it her mission to pluck them off your scrubs. she was too close, too close even for her normal tactile self, that some eyebrows were raised, but of course, no one’s brave enough to call out dana on it.

both hands on your hips as she scoots past you.

once a usual pat on your back for a job well done, now a firm squeeze on your arms. 

if a patient’s flirting with you? it’s either her or somebody else takes over. no questions asked.

dana found you on a quick break on the stairwell. “their pool’s almost 200 bucks, kid. you gonna let someone win that?”

“it’s stupid. i don’t have time to hook up with someone. i’m barely on my own bed.”

she sits beside you, her elbows resting on her knees. “you and me both, kid,” dana chuckles. “do you want to?”

“w-want what?”

“kiss someone. get laid,” she said with a low voice. like it should be a secret. 

“i…i dont know. maybe. one day?” you reply nervously. you don’t know where she’s going with this, all you can think about is the hand that’s now resting on your knee, her thumb brushing the space. 

“you need someone you know. person you trust. someone who knows and can give you what you need. you won’t get that from a bar. jesus, god knows bar hookups can be so sloppy. gal like you don’t deserve that.”

“okay, well. do you…know someone?”

dana doesn’t answer.

instead, she stands up, and you follow her movement with your eyes.

you already miss her touch—but not for long, as she tips your chin up to match her gaze. her blue eyes map your expression. wide bright eyes, dilated pupils, lips parted.

her cocky smirk returns on her lips, then pulls away, going back to the chaos of ED. over her shoulder, she says, “you should come later. there’s ice cold beer.”

later comes.

the chill of pittsburgh air permeates your skin, but it’s not why the hair on the back of your neck stands up. 

it’s the way dana’s arms are resting at the back of the park bench.

your colleagues are long gone, and it’s only you and her and the can of beer that tastes a little more bitter now. 

“ya know what i think? i think,” dana’s voice lowers. “…you like someone and that’s why you’re not game with the people they’re setting ya up with.”

you chuckle in response. “maybe i do. but, it’s impossible. they’re…she’s just not someone. it can’t possibly happen.”

“well, why not? you’re a very pretty girl. anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“it’s complicated,” you huff. you turn towards dana, her other hand busying itself by brushing your hair out of your face. “she can’t possibly see me the way i do. she’s everything. i’m just…me. i’m not even half the woman that she is.”

“don’t sell yourself short, honey. here, look at me.” dana directs your face toward her. “‘m sure you’ll do great. why dont you practice with me?”

you gape at her like a fish out of water. “w-what?”

“ya heard me. it sounds like this woman you like’s a real piece of work. if you want her, you need to be able to sweep her off her feet.”

god. how do you even process this? when the very woman she’s referring to is herself?

but you do want to kiss her so bad. so bad, you’re already nodding yes—you could never say no to her, anyway—and you inch closer to her, your hand letting go of the beer can on the ground. 

you put your hand on dana’s knee with a hesitant palm. 

dana leans in, but still waits for you to close the gap. “just follow my lead, ‘kay? do what feels natural.”

so you close your eyes and wait with bated breath for her.

it’s barely a kiss, just a tentative brush of dana’s lips against yours. she pulls back slightly. “you good, kid?”

it’s barely a kiss, but you could feel your heart beating so loud you probably need to go back to the ED but as a patient, this time. 

it’s barely a kiss, and yet. 

it’s worth the wait. it’s everything you ever wanted, and more. 

“y-yeah. i…can we do that again?”

“of course, baby girl.”

your stomach did a flip at the nickname. 

this time, you let dana’s lips slide against yours, pressing more deeply than the first time, until the two of you get into a comfortable rhythm. your hand now finds its way to dana’s jaw, feeling more confident. 

that is, until dana pulls your hair, and a moan slips out of your mouth. you could feel her grin, her tongue now licking on your lower lip. she pushed her tongue past your lips, and you let the wet muscle explore your mouth. you mimic what she’s doing, but still letting her lead—earning a hum from the older woman. 

the taste of beer and a hint of nicotine burst in your mouth. you might have just found your favorite taste—and you’re becoming addicted.

you make out in the park for what feels like forever, your touch more bold now as it grasps the collar of dana’s jacket to keep her close. 

much to your dismay, you do need to breathe, so you pull away, but not before dana bites your bottom lip.

“not bad, cheeky girl. see, you’re a natural.”

dana’s praise makes you shiver, and it’s not the cold anymore. “thank you. you’re amazing. that was…incredible. i like it.”

your chest is still heaving, and you could still feel your lips tingling. you take a glance at dana’s face, noting that she’s not entirely unaffected either. her lidded eyes glint against the night, lips curled into a—dare you say—proud, smile.

“it’s getting late, sweetheart. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

with that, dana left you wondering what else she could teach you.

[asolitaryrose3]

---------Dana Evans with a gf--------