gabrielle sinclair... who you met during your undergrad years because her parents are friends of your family. your parents introduced you to her because she was already in her junior year during your freshman year and they wanted you to know at least one person while away at uni.
gabrielle sinclair... who took care of you during your freshman year. she already knew the ins and outs of the campus. she knew which parties to go, which dining hall had the best food, which professors were the best, and which people you should surround yourself with.
gabrielle sinclair... who you developed a crush on because she was so kind to you and she was so beautiful. you were so flustered around her, and she found it to be so cute because you didn't know that she already knew about your crush, and because you didn't know that she liked you back.
gabrielle sinclair... who was the first to admit that she liked you after a drunken night at a party.
gabrielle sinclair... who always gave you the cutest nicknames, your personal favorite was:
"hi, baby doll." she'd say in the sweetest southern accent.
gabrielle sinclair... who you call "gabby".
gabrielle sinclair... who helped you discover yourself sexually. you weren't a virgin by any means and you were comfortable in your sexuality, but having sex with her changed your life. you learned what sexual dynamics you liked. and she taught you everything you needed to know about pleasing a woman.
gabrielle sinclair... who was a sensual lover. she loved to fuck you nice and slow while a slow r&b playlist played in the background, but the music wasn't too loud because she loved to hear the sounds of your moans and your wet pussy squelching.
gabrielle sinclair... who you dated until she graduated and ended things on good terms. you loved and cared for each other dearly, but you both had a mutual understanding that long distance wouldn't work for you two, and you both agreed to stay friends.
gabrielle sinclair... who checks in with you every year on birthdays and major holidays. she still cares about you, so why not make sure you're still okay?
gabrielle sinclair... who is in pittsburgh for a couple months for work and decided to hit you up because you were the only person she knew in town, other than her coworkers, and because you hadn't seen each other in years so you might as well reconnect, right?
gabrielle sinclair... who's gonna take real good care of you until samira and jack come to their senses.
𑣲summary: it's javadi's 21st birthday, and you all go out clubbing to celebrate.
𑣲contains: black!fem!reader, but anyone can read. reader uses she/her pronouns. usage of y/n. reader is described to have large breasts. horny!jack & samira. alcohol. mentions of smut. sexual fantasies. physical assault. violence against women. angst. swearing. i use the word breasts a lot.
💌a/n: i don't think i proofread very well, so i'm sorry if there are any mistakes.
it was around 8 pm on a saturday evening. you were helping victoria get ready because she'd never been out clubbing and didn't know what to wear. you were determined to make victoria's first clubbing experience as perfect as possible. in true eldest daughter fashion, you adopted victoria as your little sister because she was an only child.
you were already dressed, and your hair and makeup were done. you wore a yellow bandage dress that hugged your curves in all the right places and accentuated your breasts, and a pair of black high heels. you hadn't been out in a while so you wanted to look as good as possible tonight.
you were excited to be going out for victoria's birthday and to have a good time with your friends, but there was a part of you that didn't want samira and jack to be there. on the outside things seemed okay, but you knew there was still some tension between the three of you. you knew that jack hated you, and you could tell that you weren't doing a good job at convincing samira that you were okay.
when trinity and dennis got to your apartment, they brought a bottle of tequila for you guys to pregame with. samira and jack arrived a little while after, and you were the one who opened the door for them. jack was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag for victoria, you were sure it was samira's doing. jack didn't seem like the thoughtful type to you.
when samira finally laid her eyes on you she nearly fell over because of your dress. the only thing samira saw were your breasts. your entire chest was out, so much that you'd might as well be showing your areolas. jack eyes wandered down to your chest as well and they nearly fell out of his head. they both became flustered at the sight of you, well your breasts actually. you didn't know that you had the couple in a frenzy.
"somethin' wrong?" you asked genuinely confused. "is the dress too much?"
"no, you look great." samira reassured you. "have your boobs always been this huge?"
you laughed at her then instructed jack to leave victoria's gift in the living room and guided samira into the kitchen where everyone else was. they were sitting around the kitchen island preparing to take shots. they all greeted the couple. samira joined everyone around the island and jack hung back, sitting against the wall.
he watched as trinity poured you all shots of tequila into some shot cups, then as you all made a toast to javadi and wished her a happy birthday. then his eyes were on you. you looked so happy. you were laughing at something trinity said and your smile was so bright. you looked so beautiful.
his eyes began to travel lower as you moved around in your seat, your breasts jiggled slightly. the sight nearly made him grow stiff in his jeans. he felt like a perverted old man, but he couldn't help it. all he saw was you because that dress fit you so perfectly.
"y/n, your tits are poking me in the eye." trinity joked.
"that's the point." you pointed to your breasts and bounced them a little. "the outfit is titty."
samira almost choked on her spit at the sight of them moving. she had never noticed your breasts in this way before. sure she'd always compliment you on how good you looked, but now she felt an urge she never felt before. she felt the urge to see you without that dress on and your nipples hardened from the cold air. her mouth watered at the thought of her taking one of your nipples in her mouth and rolling the other between her fingers. she didn't understand why these thoughts plagued her mind all of a sudden, but you wearing that dress was starting to drive her crazy like she was some pervert.
"girl, you're just trying to get some tonight."
trinity wasn't completely wrong. you had been going through so much shit lately so maybe an orgasm or two would help.
"she definitely is." dennis agreed with her.
"when did this become slut shame y/n time?"
everyone took a couple more shots before leaving your apartment and getting into the van jack rented for the night. according to samira, jack was taking his designated driver job very seriously. she talked all about how he brought a cooler stocked with water and gatorades for you all to stay hydrated after the club, and he brought a bag full of snacks incase anyone got hungry. he was even going to go inside the club to play as you all's bodyguard, and jack hadn't set foot in a club in years.
on the way there, you all were listening to a playlist from your phone, that was a mix of girly rap and 2000s pop. crybaby by megan thee stallion came on, and you went bar for bar.
"choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me" the words came out of your mouth so passionately.
jack looked up at you through the rear view mirror while he was driving, and watched you rap each explicit lyric of the song. he was thankful that he was approaching the club or else he'd have something to deal with in the club bathroom.
before going into the club, you went over the rules for the night.
"number one rule, no leaving the group if you are alone! two, if you see anyone wandering off alone snatch them up, but nicely, trinity. three, don't leave your drinks unattended, leave them with jack." you listed out.
when you got inside, the bass from the music was loud and made your heart thump. you found a few empty seats at the bar and trinity began ordering shots of tequila for everyone except jack. you all made another toast similar to the one earlier, and downed the shots. trinity ordered another round before leaving to get on the dance floor with victoria and dennis following behind. you stayed behind, wanting to wait for samira, who was talking to jack about something.
"you ready?" she asked you when she was done and you nodded. "you can leave your purse with him."
"i'm good." you shook your head and kept your purse on your shoulder, it wasn't big anyway. "might need it."
then you guided her by her hand to the dance floor, before she could say anything else to jack. the song that played was something from the early 2000s. you began dancing with samira. at first you weren't close, but your bodies gravitated towards each other eventually. you ran your hands over your body as you danced, not knowing that each time you came across your breasts your best friend, and her boyfriend, wanted to take you to the club bathroom right then and there.
jack watched as you and samira's bodies moved against each other. he observed how sensual your movements were. at that moment, all he wanted was to take you and samira home with him, but if he's being real with himself, you wouldn't even make it out of the parking lot before his face was buried in your chest.
jack and samira didn't know of each other's thoughts about you, but if they did, they might've actually followed through with their fantasies.
back on the dance floor, you slowly began to forget everything that happened over the last few weeks. dancing with samira felt how it did back then, when it was just you two. it was short lived when samira told you she wanted to go get something to drink, and for you to join the others and keep having fun.
truthfully samira was tipsy now, and that meant she was getting hornier than she already was before. she found her way to her boyfriend and immediately started kissing him. jack was taken aback by her suddenness.
"hey, everything okay?"
"yeah, i just really wanna kiss you right now." then she dove back in for another kiss.
you were dancing and having a good time until you looked over to the bar and saw samira all over jack. all you could do was stop dancing and push your way through the crowded dance floor to find the bathroom. you'd broken your own number one rule, "no leaving the group if you are alone", but everyone else broke rule number two by letting you wander off alone.
when you reached the bathroom, which was surprisingly not crowded, you pushed yourself into the nearest open stall. all you could do was breakdown. you felt like they were rubbing how happy they were in your face. they knew how much hell you just went through because of them and they decided to rub their happiness in your face. maybe you were overreacting? that didn't matter, your feelings mattered to you and they're constantly being stomped on. you told yourself that you should've stayed home, because you knew you weren't going to be able to have a decent night with them there.
after you were done crying, you moved from the stall and found the closest mirror to fix your makeup with a paper towel.
"pretty girl like you shouldn't be crying." a voice came from behind you, it was a woman who looked a little older than you. "may i ask why?"
"the reason all dumb bitches cry in the club." you chuckled out, but the stranger wasn't moved by your answer. "i was stupid enough to fall in love with my best friend."
the liquor in your system ended up forcing you to tell the woman everything that went down in the past few weeks of your life. you were in the bathroom for a while, and your friends were probably too drunk to notice that you were gone.
when you were done venting to the nice woman in the bathroom, who's name you never got, you made your way to the bar to get yourself another drink. jack was watching you walk towards the bar. you noticed samira wasn't there with him anymore, so you had no reason to go on that side of the bar.
jack watched you walk towards the bar on the opposite end of where he was seated. you knew he was there, so why wouldn't you go by him? you offended him because he would've paid for your drink if you had come to his side of the bar. he continued watching you as you ordered some fruity cocktail and as you pulled out your card to pay the bartender.
as you sipped on your drink, you hung out by the bar and decided to people watch for a little. a little while later, a man approached you. he kept trying to flirt with you as you were actively ignoring him. it wasn't that he was bad looking or anything, you just weren't in the mood.
jack watched the exchange go down from the other side of the bar, and so did samira from her spot on the dance floor. they saw you turn the man down more than once, but he just kept on going. samira slowly made her way towards you, in case the situation turned bad. she hated how such a sleazy man thought he could approach you in such a way.
"look, i'm not interested so can you leave me alone." you rejected the man once again.
"whatever, you're a stuck up bitch anyway!"
"your mom's a bitch." you snapped back and rolled your eyes thinking the man would finally walk away, but instead he grabbed your arm harshly, spilling your drink all over you, and told you to "say that shit again."
in a matter of seconds, jack practically flew from his seat, pushed the man off of you, and started throwing his fists at the man's face.
"hey? are you okay?" samira pulled your trembling body into her arms. "y/n, are you okay?"
all you could do was nod. samira felt so bad, because had she gotten there sooner maybe that would've never happened to you. she pulled you in closer and rubbed circles around your back.
"it's okay, i've got you." she cooed in your ear. "i'm here, you're gonna be okay."
thankfully jack didn't get arrested because he knew the bouncer, but unfortunately the night was over. the ride home was quiet. you were still in shock, but samira was still by your side, comforting you. you silently cried into your best friend's shoulder because you hated how some men could be so cruel and violent towards women. you hated how you were now a victim of a man with a fragile ego, and samira hated it too.
jack dropped trinity and dennis off at their place first before taking you and victoria home. when he approached the building he parked in the nearest parking spot.
"gonna get out and make sure she's gonna be okay." samira whispered to her boyfriend, who just nodded because he understood.
you climbed out of the van and helped victoria, who was very drunk, out as well. you helped her gain her balance as she began walking, and held onto her as samira helped you too.
"y/n, could we talk?" jack's voice softly asked behind you, before you made it inside of the apartment complex.
you turned your head towards samira, who told you it was okay and that she could take care of victoria by herself. you turned around towards him as the girls went inside.
"what did you want to talk about?" you asked as you wrapped your arms around your body, so you could keep yourself warm.
on the inside, jack so desperately wished he had a jacket to he could wrap it around your shivering figure. he thought to himself that it was because he didn't want you to get sick, obviously?
"i just wanted to say that i'm sorry about what happened tonight." he apologized to you. "that should've never happened."
"thanks, that all you needed to say?" you began to turn around on your heels.
"y/n, why do you have to be this way?" he questioned, and you furrowed your brows slightly because you didn't know what he was talking about. "i'm trying my best with you, and i'm getting nowhere."
"what exactly are you trying?" you replied. "i'm genuinely curious. what the fuck have you done other than antagonize me and ruin my relationship with my best friend? get over yourself, jack."
"y/n, i want us to get along for her, but you're not helping."
"i'm not helping?" you scoffed. "you wanted me out of the picture, so i left. samira was unhappy, then i had to come make everything better. i literally gave you what you wanted and you didn't know what to do with it."
the thing was, you didn't give him what he actually wanted, you gave him what he thought he wanted. deep down inside all he really wanted was you, in his house, with his girl, and with him. he had a terrible way of showing that though. jack talked about you and your ego, but he had a terribly huge one. he wasn't going to beg you to come back, he wanted you to do that on your own, but samira had other plans. she didn't tell him to ask you to come back, he knew that's what she wanted, and he did too, so he did because he couldn't bare it anymore. still he was an asshole to you. giving you mean glares and barely speaking to you unless it was hi or bye, because for one, he hated that you ignored samira, and secondly he didn't understand himself at that moment. he didn't understand his feelings, so he took it out on you.
"you wanna know something? i was hurting without her, but i was okay with that because i love her." you continued. "i have constantly put my heart on the line for her. i have cried every single day since that night at dinner because i was so scared that i was ruining her chance at happiness, because i love her, and because you treat me like i'm some kind of outsider. you hate me jack, and i'm okay with that because i love her."
"y/n, i'm sorry."
"you're not." a broken sob came from your mouth. "you're not because you love her, and that's okay."
"it's not okay. listen, y/n, i'm so sorry." jack shook his head and tried to approach you to give you a hug because he felt so bad, but you flinched before he could even reach out.
"don't touch me." you turned around and left him there to wallow in all of his guilt.
and jack felt so guilty. how could he make you feel like this? he was no better than the man who attacked you tonight. you didn't deserve to feel that way. then on top of it all, you endured everything because you loved samira. if he were any other jealous old man, which he is, but not how he used to be, but if he were, he would've hated you for confessing your love for his girlfriend.
it was because jack began to see you differently. he didn't understand it. was it even possible for him to love two women at the same time without feeling guilty? he didn't know, because the only thing he felt guilty of was putting you through hell. he didn't understand when it happened or how. maybe it was because you were at his house all the time? always being so kind and charismatic. always baking desserts for him and samira to have after dinner. always taking care of his girl and loving her unconditionally. jack didn't understand himself in that moment, but he was sure that he loved his girlfriend, and he'd managed to fall in love with her best friend too.
yet it was so unfortunate that you didn't know he loved you so much, that it came out as hatred. the line between love and hate was really that thin.
meanwhile inside samira was waiting for you and jack to walk into the apartment at any moment. hopefully being the best of friends after your talk, but when the door unlocked only to reveal you, her face dropped.
"what happened is everything okay? where's jack?" samira questioned.
"yeah, everything's fine." you lied, and samira was sick of you lying. "he's waiting for you in the car."
she knew when you were lying, so why did you continue to lie to her? you were most likely still shaken up from tonight, so why lie? why lie to her when she knew you in and out? why lie to her when she loves and cares for you so much?
"are you sure?" she asked, but you just nodded with a fake smile. another lie, but she didn't want to push you after what happened tonight. "i can stay here with you tonight, and have jack go home."
"no, it's fine." you shook your head. "go be with your man, girl."
why would you think she wanted to leave you alone to go be with him after what happened to you? but it's not your fault, you just didn't understand what you being attacked triggered inside of samira. yes, she always loved and cared for you, but she thought about how she could've lost you tonight all because of a stupid man's fragile ego. she never wanted to think about losing you again, not when you were her best friend. her entire world, really.
then it was the dress you had on that triggered something else. when she look at you and thought about how sexy you looked and how your breasts were sitting so nicely in that dress, her mind was flooded with thoughts that she couldn't speak of. in the back of her mind she wanted tonight to end differently. she wanted you back at her house, in her and jack's bed.
her nasty thoughts of you were sudden, but her love for you was always there. you just didn't know it, and for some reason the recent distance between the two of you made her love for you more intense. you ignoring her hurt her so much, but she was willing to forgive you because that's how much she loved you. yes, she was in love with jack too, but you were there first.
she loved both of you in the same way. that's why she's always wanted you to get along with each other. she was so in love with the two of you it hurt. it hurt her because she didn't think she could have both of you at the same time.
samira never wanted to act on her feelings because she didn't want to ruin your friendship, and your family had taken her in like she was one of their own. she didn't want to ruin that, so she played it safe. until now, because she wanted you now, more than ever, but she didn't know if you felt the same. all she could do was leave. if she didn't, she might do the unthinkable.
"you'll call me of you need anything, right?"
"yes, sami, i will." you assured her then she pulled you into a tight hug, feeling your breasts against hers.
samira didn't want to leave, but had to before she told you how much she loved you and fucked you right on the couch. god, her thoughts were tempting.
she left eventually and made her way outside to her boyfriend who was waiting for her, who also had the same temptations as her. you didn't know it yet, but you were thing your best friend and her boyfriend desired the most right now.
♫: party - beyoncé ft. andre 3000
liked by j.abbot, cassiemckay, parker.ellis, mel.king and 437 others
Confessions of a Night Shift Nurse - The Pitt SMAU - PT. 3
+18 MDNI
pt. 2 / pt. 4
summary: we've officially entered the night shift group chat. 2 week time jump.
content: nurse!reader, fem!reader x jack abbot (no jack interaction this time around), reader fighting for her life in the gc, mateo being a menace, me trying to be funny, excessive meme usage, age gap
a/n: my ass was giggling writing this ngl. no jack interaction this chapter but i've got some GOOD SHIT on the way i promise. as always, i hope you enjoy! taglist is open!
Normal groceries like milk or bread or whatever running out is whatever. Just anotha day. But when stuff like salt or cooking oil or rice runs out it feels like You’re supposed to be here for me and you’re leaving. You’re just like everyone else
Another point that reminds me of my privilege in this world is when I think about the fact that we sell the cure for tuberculosis to people to give to their dogs for a UTI. Millions of people literally die every year because they can't access this medication and I'm giving it to people to shove down their dogs' throats to make them stop peeing in the house. It's one of the more expensive antibiotics and people always whine about the price but then it's not their daughter they have to watch slowly suffocate as bacteria turns her lungs into swiss cheese. It's not their father that coughs and coughs and coughs until he's spitting up blood.
The deadliest infectious disease in human history is cured by the same packet of chewable tabs individually packed in foil. It comes in beef flavor so your dog won't resist taking its meds as much. It's like a hundred bucks for 30 tablets on pretty much any pet pharmacy.
It makes me think about medicine scarcity and how it's all fake in order to get enough capital that you can have individuals with higher net worth than entire countries. And in the mean time, hundreds of millions of people are dead because they don't drive the bottom line.
imo the term "walkable" in "walkable cities" should be understood to mean "wheelchair accessible" as well, not just literally "possible to walk in". the act of walking in a city doesn't automatically make it walkable
pairing: dr jack abbot x plus-size! santos' sister! reader
summary: pt 2 of don't ever let abbot think he's cool. the highly anticipated date <3
word count: 11 k ⚕♡
warning: SMUT-also a good amount of fluff but-SMUT. 18 + only, minors do not interact
a/n: guysss it's here!!! thank you all so much for the likes and the lovely comments and reblogs for pt 1, it means the world to me knowing y'all enjoyed it
At this rate, you would be going on your date in a robe with a towel on your head. Stubbornly, you were so sure that if you just stared at your closet for a bit longer, the answer would magically appear.
“You’re seriously overthinking this right now,” Trinity remarked from behind you. She had been lounging sideways on your bed for the last hour, silently judging. Well, not exactly silent, she’s taken to likening you to an anxious tornado bouncing back and forth between the closet and dresser, leaving destruction in your wake. If she had known you’d be panicking this much, she would have never ‘nudged’ Abbot yesterday.
“Hey, Dr Abbot, can I talk to you for a sec?” He was meandering around the nurses' station, finishing up a discussion with Shen and Walsh. She figured now would be the best time to hash it out with him before something came bursting through their doors.
Abbot always made time for his residents, even if he was dreading the topic of conversation. Trinity sure as hell didn’t appreciate the look that was passed between the three stooges, but she was on a mission now. He led them to the staff lounge, which was relatively empty since the shift change.
“Can I talk to you like you’re not my attending right now?” She was posted up against the counter, a pot of burnt coffee was still dripping behind her. Her arms were crossed like she was the PTMC bouncer, and Abbot was sure she believed herself to be the picture of intimidation.
He let out a tired sigh. It was–what–8:38, way too early in the shift to deal with this. “I’m assuming this is about your sister?”
Santos gave him an exasperated look, as if she would have pulled him aside like this for anything else. “Either you need to buck up and ask her out or leave her alone, okay. My sister doesn’t need some dinasour stringing her along–”
She was expecting her bluntness to rattle him, but he’s not one to stir easily. The dinosaur comment didn’t even phase him. “You know it’s funny that you mention it, since that’s actually what I was in the middle of before we were so rudely interrupted.” Trinity took that with a grain of salt, a whole month, and suddenly she’s the reason Abbot couldn’t get his head out of his ass. Sure.
“Then why does she think you’re not interested?”
The look on Abbot’s face was almost enough to make up for all the doubles she’s worked this past month. “She thinks I’m not–what?” He sort of reminded her of a sad puppy, or one of those weepy life insurance commercials.
God, men can be so fucking stupid, she thought. “Look, my sister, she’s weird okay,” only she’s allowed to say that about her though. “She’s never gonna think you like her unless you say it straight to her face. So be blunt, be bold, and don’t be a coward.” She should not be having to help an old man with dating advice, but this is her life now apparently.
He seemed to finally snap back to attention. “Well, since we’re speaking so freely, your conversation with her in here the other day was completely inappropriate.”
Trinity’s eyes rolled so far to the back of her head before rolling back to him. “Oh my god I’ve already gotten third degree from Robby–”
“It was inappropriate, spiteful, and cruel Trinity.” She wondered if it stung because she actually respected Abbot or if it stung because she knew it was true. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, she knew it would hurt, and she had said it anyway.
More than anything, it made her angry. “You don’t know a thing about me and my sister alright, you’ve known her for a month–”
“And I’m actively trying to get to know her better–”
Trinity would do chairs for a straight week if it meant she could get out of the conversation she started. This is what she gets for trying to play cupid. “Jesuuuus, listen, she’s bringing food by in a couple hours, make a move or stay lonely, I don’t care.” She did care, she cared about her sister. More than she could ever say. She also really cared about the hundred bucks that were on the line too.
Her hand was on the door when Abbot spoke up again. “I can’t tell if you’re giving me your ‘blessing’ or actively telling me to stay away.”
She didn’t have the time to give him the peace of mind either, lives to save and all that. “Better hurry up and figure it out then.”
Good thing Abbot’s not as big a coward as she thought. Now she’s a hundred dollars richer.
“And you’re underthinking, okay, this is my–this is my first date in a really long time. Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna have a panic attack. Is that a bad sign? Should I just cancel?” Yeah, go ahead and cancel on the insanely hot doctor, like you’ll be able to do any better. Your mind had been unnecessarily steamy and spiteful today.
You could hear her flop back on the bed. “Why don’t you just borrow something from my closet?” How the times have changed. You remembered her sneaking into your room, stealing your t-shirts and flannels. But God forbid if you asked to borrow something of hers, even though it was never clothing, most of the time it was something simple like a hair tie.
She didn’t mean it in a malicious way, but the offer still irritated you when you were already stressed enough as is. “Trinity that’s very sweet of you, but nothing in your closet would fit me.” It came out through clenched teeth as you violently swiped through the hangers.
There was a loud groan before Trinity shot off the bed and practically shoved you out of the way. “Jesus, move over.” Her fingers were quick and precise, like she knew exactly what she was looking for. “Here, wear this.” She tossed a black turtleneck and a pair of loose-fitting tweed pants over her shoulder, casual and classy, perfect. “And these,” you barely had time to catch the shoes that were being thrown at you.
“Ooo, okay yeah, yeah this is nice, thanks Trin.”
“Yup…” you thought that she would have left as soon as she was done. “You uh, you want me to do your hair?”
There was a pause where you both just looked at each other like the answer would pop into existence itself if no one spoke. After a beat, you bobbed your head up and down, not trusting yourself to answer without crying. God, when was the last time she had done that? You remember the last time you styled hers, it was for her graduation. But back when she was younger, she would beg you to play hair salon with her, every day ‘sissy can I braid your hair.’ There were always more knots than when she started, but you never complained.
She directed you to sit at the vanity in the corner and made quick work, steady, but quick. “So, uh, I was probably gonna go out for drinks with a couple of people Friday, would you wanna come with?” There wasn’t a moment of eye contact during that question, and you had to tease her for it.
You leaned your head back against her stomach so you were looking up at her. “Are you asking your big sister to hang out with youuuu?”
There was a short playful tug on the section she held in her hand as she pushed you back up. “Shut up, are you in or not?”
“Yeah, not like I’ve got anything better to do.” You shrugged your shoulders like it was no big deal, but it was, probably more than Trinity realized in that moment.
Now it was her turn to tease you. “I think you mean you didn’t have anyone better to do, but I’m sure that’ll change after tonight.” Your elbow reached back trying to catch her ribs, but she quickly side-stepped it. “You’ll let me know if there’s weird shit at his place, right? Or like a cliche kinky dungeon, I mean obviously I don’t want details but–
This time, your elbow did hit its mark. “Shut the fuck up Trinity.”
The next hour was a mess. Trinity had taken to going through each bottle of perfume you owned to determine the right one for you to use. You could have sworn you saw her pocket a tester that held her interest, but you’d let that slide tonight. She also rifled through your closet again after you got dressed, occasionally asking if she could ‘borrow’ a few pieces. It was nice to know that some things still stay the same.
Eventually, the two of you migrated to the living room. Trinity offered a shot for your nerves, but you reminded her that you were too old to be pregaming for a date. Still, you did take a sip of her tequila, which was apparently going to be her company for the night while you were gone.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, and even you could admit you were too eager with how fast you picked it up.
I’m downstairs, but don’t feel like you have to rush. He was early, that shouldn’t be hot to you, but it was. You were always the first one to show up for a date, always the one to have to wait.
Okay! Be down in just a sec!
Trinity looked playfully disturbed at how giddy her sister was. “Alright, he’s here. I’m gonna head out.”
She stopped you at the door, “Oh wait, here,” she reached into the pocket of her sweats and handed you a few condoms. “Swiped these from the hospital just in case. You can never trust men to have one, and if they don’t, they’re not even worth it.”
Was she just keeping those in her pocket the entire time? Probably best not to ask that question. You put your hand out to decline, but she shot you a look that told you it would be better to just take the damn condoms. “Thanks, Trin.”
You slipped them into your purse and couldn’t help but think about the possibility that you might end up using them tonight. “Hey, just–have fun, and be careful, I know nothing will–just be careful.”
It always tugged at your heartstrings when your sister became protective of you. Still, this was kind of painful to watch. You’d hug her if you were one hundred percent sure it wouldn’t break her out in hives. “I promise I’ll text you.”
“You better.”
“Love you sissy.” You dragged out the declaration, voice syrupy sweet.
She rolled her eyes and turned you around before practically kicking you out the door. “Jeez get the fuck out of here and get laid.”
You were halfway down the stairs when Trinity burst out the door, “Hey, did you forget something?” She held out the pan of lemon squares you had made yesterday. There was one missing, no doubt she grabbed it before bringing it out to you. Climbing back up the stairs, you thanked her for being a lifesaver, but she said, “Something tells me he wouldn’t have minded if you forgot about them.” You would have minded though, if you say you’re bringing dessert, you’re bringing dessert, inuendos be damned.
He was standing outside his truck, leaning against the door. A man his age should not have this much charisma; it’s just a dangerous combination. Still, you could see that his thumb tapped against his thigh near his pocket; maybe he was just as nervous as you. He was dressed in a dark blue henley and jeans that were on the lighter side. It was different from what you normally saw him in at the veterans center, but it felt like a treat seeing him out of his scrubs.
As soon as you stepped out of the door that led to the back parking lot, he was making his way towards you. His eyes unabashedly tracing over every inch of you this time, no nosy nurses around to catch him. You’re glad that Trinity had pushed you to forgo blush because you could already feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“You look gorgeous.”
“You look pretty handsome yourself…” You trailed off as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, which you were worried might have scorched his lips from the heat. He smelled so good, so many notes on top of tobacco and clove, it was mouthwatering.
Of course, you thought that he would move back after the kiss, but no, he lingered, and he–did he just sniff you? Oh fuck, “Hmm,” Jack Abbot just practically moaned into your neck, and now you feel lightheaded. “You smell good,” now he finally took a step back, oh yeah, this fucker knew exactly what he was doing; it lit a sort of fire in you.
“S-so do you.” Too bad your mouth couldn’t catch up with your brain around this man.
His barely there smile spoke volumes, no doubt he knew the effect he had on you. Like it hadn’t been completely obvious this past month. “Come on sweetheart, I promised you dinner.” His palm was pressed lightly against your back as he led you to his truck. You wanted his hand around your waist, his fingers gripping you tightly to him, but for now, you’ll take what you can get without scaring him off.
“Good to know you’re a man of your word.”
He looked down at the tray in your hand. “Could say the same about you. Guess you weren’t kidding about dessert, huh?”
“Oh, I never joke when it comes to dessert.” Jack opened the door for you, offered his hand and everything. To so many people, it would be such a small thing. Something to be expected or glossed over, but to you it’s a sort of wake-up call. Why should you have ever been expected to accept anything less when it’s so simple?
You allowed yourself a brief moment of panic in the time that he closed the door and made his way to the opposite side. Deep breath, deep breath.
“You warm enough?” The space felt so much smaller all of a sudden. Yes, ridiculously enough, and it’s not from the heat circulating in this truck. You told him that you were fine, that you tended to run hot anyway.
The fact that you almost swooned when he backed out of the parking space is just dismal. But he did the thing, you know, the thing where the guy puts his hand on the back of your headrest and backs out without a care in the world with one hand. You were certain that he intentionally flexed the arm right next to your head as well. How are you supposed to survive this night?
Your heart finally calmed down when he dropped his arm and turned left out of the parking lot. Angling your body towards him, you said, “I got so used to seeing you in scrubs, was starting to think you only existed in the ER.” He hadn’t had a chance to visit the center either, what with the hospital being short-staffed this past month.
“Yeah, there’s a whole underground basement system where they like to store us. Luckily, they let me out tonight for good behaviour.” Jack Abbot was a very safe driver; you figured most of the ER staff would be (Trinity excluded), considering the stuff they see on a daily basis. He didn’t go more than ten over the speed limit, always checked his blind spots, and not once did you hear the god-awful revving that you associated with trucks.
“Definitely not beating the night shift are vampires allegation are you?”
He chanced a quick look at you. “Promise I don’t bite.”
Your arm came up to rest on the center console, leaning in even closer. “Damn, I was really hoping you did.”
His knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and his shoulders briefly shook with restrained laughter. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
There’s the side of you that can flirt, but it’s always been hesitant. Around Jack though, that side has never known anything but confidence. Except when he occasionally manages to short-circuit your brain. “Only the best kind, promise.” You’ve never felt this secure so early on a first date; they’ve always been awkward and stiff, but it just feels easy right now.
You were surprised to find out that he only lived ten minutes away from your apartment when he pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t mentioned anything when you texted him your address at the hospital. Makes things a bit easier, your brain supplied. His place was a beautiful, dark, one-story house that still held a love of the 70's; you’re sure that you’ve passed by it before and admired it. Small world.
He helped you down from the truck and led you up the steps to the front door. The pressure of his palm on your back was firmer than before. One of the first things you noticed about his home was that it’s calm. It didn’t necessarily feel lived in because he was hardly ever here, but it also invited you in. It said come in and rest your head before you have to leave again, and it made you want to stay.
His hand gently grabbed the strap of your purse, and it startled you for a second before you let it fall off your arm. He hung it up on one of the available hooks and grabbed the tray out of your hand, setting it next to the bowl that held his keys. Both hands hovered above your shoulders, a silent question of may I? So you dropped your arms to let him. How was he giving you so many firsts tonight, and it hasn’t even been–what–thirty minutes? “Alright, I’ve got steaks marinating in the fridge–”
“Oh, so you do know what you’re doing.” He hung up his own coat and took off his shoes. You followed suit, and then he was leading you towards the kitchen with your dessert. It was barebones but clean, sleek and modern, fancy appliances, but nothing extra littered the counters besides a coffee pot and a container for cooking utensils. It made sense for Jack. The rest of his place had much more character. Comfort definitely took priority when it came to the furniture.
“I’ve got a beautiful lady to impress, and I have no intention of disappointing. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked for a water, he grabbed a bottle from the fridge before pouring it into a glass for you.
“So how was your day?” That actually stumped you for a second. You were so used to asking Trinity that question, listening to the highlights for thirty minutes, or sometimes getting nothing at all and then having to wait for her to ask the same. For anyone to ask the same.
“Not bad actually, I spent most of it with Trinity, which was actually kind of fun. Even though she was being a pain in my ass for most of it.”
“So things are all right between you two?”
“Yeah, Trinity is…Trinity,” he chuckled at that. “I think it helps that we live together out here. Makes it harder for her to stay mad at me. Plus, I’ve been supplying her with a steady stream of food. It’s the best medicine after all.”
He gave a comical questioning look. “Now, I thought that was laughter?”
“I supply both in large quantities.”
The distance lessened with a step, “I believe it.”
You took a step in kind, “And how was your day Jack?”
“Well, I woke up knowing I didn’t have to work and that I had a date with an amazing woman waiting for me. First time I’ve woken up with a smile on my face in a while.”
“I like your smile,” it just slipped out without a thought.
Now you were blushing, and his grin was turning into a full-blown smile. “I like yours too. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” He'd better be careful, or you might start to believe him.
You tried to fight down the rising heat in your face by changing the subject. “So what’s on the menu tonight, Dr. Abbot?”
His shoulders stiffened, and he shook his head, “Steaks obviously since I’ve got something to prove now, and we’ve got potatoes, zucchini, and squash. Sound good to you?”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Good. I’m gonna step outside real quick and get the grill started. Go ahead and make yourself at home.” He traced his hand along your waist as he scooted past you towards the sliding glass door that led to his patio.
Of course, you had to take the opportunity to look around–not snooping–just assessing. Apparently, Jack wasn’t the type to hang pictures or art on the wall. Instead, he liked to keep his memories on bookshelves. There was a burial flag shadow box with a few small framed photos beside it and a dusty shot glass. Dozens of medical journals and textbooks with multicolored tabs sticking out of them.
Eventually, you stopped at a photo of a younger Jack, and who you can only assume was his wife if the short wedding dress was anything to go by. They were in front of a courthouse, Jack had his arms wrapped around her waist as they smiled at the camera, petals falling from her bouquet. She looked like someone who could have been the people's princess, just a classic elegance. Nothing like you, your brain hissed at you.
Your disparaging thoughts screeched to a halt at the sound of the door sliding open again. Jack looked up and saw which bookcase you were standing in front of. You pointed at the photo in front of you, desperate to fill the silence right now. “Was this Lilly?”
“Yeah…” Jack had told you the bare minimum of his history with her. Actually, he only told you that he was widowed; you had to be the one to ask him her name. You figured if he wanted to tell you more about her than he would.
He looked far away, and you regretted ever opening your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–
Jack was quick to cut off your apology. “No, no sorry, you weren’t–I didn’t even think about the pictures.”
“Jack, please don’t apologize for having pictures of someone you love up in your home.”
His eyes darted between the different pictures of them on the shelf. One of them where they were together at a graduation of Jack’s, another of them in front of beautiful mountains that they had just finished hiking. “I just…I don’t talk about her much anymore, at least not to anyone other than my therapist.”
How do you tell him that you’re here, that you want to know everything about someone who was so important to him? That it doesn’t hurt you that he loved only that he lost. “I would love to learn more if you ever want to talk about her.”
“I’m not sure how to sometimes.” That you understood all too well.
Your arms crossed across your middle, a bit of comfort offered to yourself. “My lola, she passed away a couple of years after Trinity was born. She practically raised me, but I just felt like I couldn’t talk about her after she died. I felt like I would start crying and never be able to stop. But you know, Trinity was a baby, and eventually she had questions, so I just started telling her stories, and eventually–it stopped hurting. I think it’s because someone else was able to know her like I did, like I wasn’t carrying her memory alone anymore.” You knew that you were trying to make him feel better, but you also knew that it wasn’t the same, and you wanted to apologize for even trying to compare before you looked over at him.
There was a hint of red in his eyes. “That’s–that’s really beautiful.” He shut his eyes tightly, slightly turning away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose like it would keep him from crying. “Sorry, not how I was expecting the night to go.”
You lightly nudged him. “Really? I was expecting us to unveil every bit of trauma to each other. Now I’m just disappointed.” That made him laugh, it was a bit choked back, but you count it as a win.
He nudged you back, but the touch lingered. “Can we at least save that for the second date?”
“Well, if you’re promising a second date, then I can work with that.” You’re glad that you can tease him like this. That a heavy moment can be just that, a moment.
“I can go ahead and promise you a third one while we’re at it if you like.” He offered while leading you towards the kitchen and taking out a cutting board from a cabinet along the way.
“Woah buddy, now you’re just getting ahead of yourself,” you teased, leaning against the counter.
He was quick and efficient in the kitchen, very entertaining to watch as he would dart from the fridge to the sink until he’d be back in front of you. “Right, should probably finish our first date anyway, it’s just good manners.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Exactly, also I’m not used to being idle in the kitchen, so you need to let me help out.”
“And if I told you to sit down and relax?” He was already halfway through slicing a zucchini.
“Never gonna happen.” As if he knew what it was to actually relax anyway.
He laughed under his breath, relented, and asked you to grab the green onion out of the fridge for him. You walked behind him, hand casually dragging along his upper back, it thrilled you to watch him practically freeze in place. Only resuming his action when your hand fell away to open the door.
“You trying to send me back to work for stitches?” The night shift would have a field day with that, you’re sure.
The green onions were rinsed off before being placed next to him. You settled in beside him, hip resting against the counter. “Thought you knew how to handle a knife.”
He set aside the sliced zucchini and squash into a bowl before seasoning the vegetables. “Knife and a scalpel are two very different things sweetheart.”
“Noooo, and here I was thinking they were the same.”
His hands gripped the counter, leaning into you, voice husky and low. “You’re a bit of a smartass, you know that?”
“You work with my sister, is that really so surprising?”
It took about thirty minutes for everything to be finished and for the table to be set. You had followed him outside to watch him grill the steaks. He looked like he was in his element, beer in hand, his only concern making sure nothing was overcooked. He joked that your ‘supervising’ felt a lot like hovering, and you playfully threatened to go back inside. There would be none of that since he took a page out of your book earlier and dragged his hand along your back, landing on your hip, pulling you impossibly close to him, a not-so-subtle kiss against the top of your head. Jack claimed you could supervise a lot better from there, but you were actually disappointed when the steaks were done.
The man wasn’t lying when he said he could cook; it just might have been the best thing someone had ever made for you since you were a kid. Of course, you were a bit biased since he had been the one to make it. Soaking up every bit of praise you threw his way but still claiming it had nothing on your cooking. You did, however, fail to notice the way his hand clenched against his thigh when he heard you moan at the first bite. The slight flush on his face didn’t hide where his thoughts had gone though.
You traded stories, and some vulnerable part of you was worried that you’d bore him. Jack was someone who saw the impossible on a daily basis. How could your story of Trinity’s dumb friend shooting fireworks from the top of a tree and nearly breaking every bone on the way down compare? But he didn’t judge or dismiss; he laughed, and oh, his laugh was something else. It made you want to hear it again and again. He countered with a firework story of his own, non-ER related. He told you about the time he and a few of his high school friends were shooting fireworks over the house, and one landed perfectly in a beer can on the opposite side. They were young and ecstatic and knew that no one would ever believe them, but you told him that you would if it would make him feel better.
There were moments where you held back a tale. Mostly the ones involving your sister, considering she would murder you if she ever found out you told her attending something he could use for ammunition later. He teasingly egged you on for more stories, said he’d promise to keep it a secret. You told him that he was really trying to get you banned from the hospital. Jack assured you that the ban would be lifted if you were coming to visit him.
After dinner, you were leaning towards each other on his couch, knees brushing and faces flushed from smooth conversation.
“Okay, can I ask you something?” Jack was reclined against the couch, his temple resting against his closed fist, arm bent along the back. “If it’s too much, you can tell me to fuck off.”
He shook his head, “Well one, I would never tell you that, and two, you can ask me anything.”
“Have you done much dating since Lilly?”
There was a deep inhale from him. You worried you might have overstepped, but he quickly replied, “No, it was never–it wasn’t something I would have even considered the first couple of years. I was in a bad way, threw myself into work just so I wouldn’t have to go home. Eventually, I switched therapists and actually committed to it, and things got…better. I don’t want to lie to you, I am very much still a work in progress.”
Jack had been through a lot, most of which you’ve only started to scratch the surface of. He never told you about his leg, not that you expected him to. One day, you were both in the break room sharing the meal you had brought. It was a surprisingly slow night, though neither of you commented on it, and you had just finished reviewing program forms. There was no fanfare about it; he just lifted his pant leg and removed the prosthetic so he could massage the area, and that was that. It didn’t surprise you; it was a common sight at the veterans center, but it did make you admire him even more.
You shrugged your shoulders, “That’s okay, my therapist would say the same about me. I think that’s just called living, but you know I don’t have the fancy degree to prove it.”
He playfully waved it off. “Eh, mine came out of a Cracker Jack box, what do I know?”
His joke caused you to let out a deep laugh. “My grandma used to say that’s where everyone got their driver's license.”
He was laughing too now, much more subdued than yours had been, but no less warm. “Smart woman…now can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, of course, pretty sure that’s how conversations go.”
“Smartass…so Meals on Wheels. Did you always want to do something in that ballpark?”
“No,” his brow raised questioningly at the quick response. “I actually used to be in school for nursing, if you can believe it.” He was quick to say that he could, which felt like a compliment coming from him. “Yeah, it was uh–not my calling apparently. I was really struggling in all my classes, anatomy especially,” you giggled at the grimace he gave. “Uh, but then mom passed away, so I had to drop out and take care of Trinity, which actually felt like a bit of a relief in this really horrible way. So then it was just me and Trin and I was working two jobs, one with Meals, and I kind of ended up growing with them. It’s just–it was really nice to do some good when everything else was a lot, so I wanted to keep doing that.”
“You’re an incredible woman.” He didn’t say those words lightly, he said them like fact, like nothing could disprove it. You tried to brush it off, head turning away from him to fight the rising emotions. “I mean that…” in no world would he have you doubt him. It just made your eyes well up even more, and Jack saw that you weren’t just playfully brushing him off. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry.”
“No–no, you did nothing wrong, no one's ever–it was just really sweet, that’s all.” Jesus, get a fucking grip. Are you seriously crying over a compliment? The spiral stopped in its tracks as his hand reached up, gently holding your cheek, thumb catching a stray tear. He leaned forward, and for a terrifying moment, you were worried he was going to kiss you. You had been dying for him to kiss you all night, all month actually, but gosh, not like this. Jack surprised you once more; it was a kiss, but on your opposite cheek. It was beautiful and soft and grounding. He placed two more in quick succession before leaning back and dropping his hand to rest on your knee.
His smile could easily become a comfort. “I have a lot more compliments to give, please tell me you’re not gonna cry at them all.” Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d survive his praise, not when he made you believe in impossible things.
You playfully swatted at his chest but leaned in closer still. “I’m terrible with compliments.”
His thumb circled your knee, tracing as much of the area as he could with where his hand was placed. “That’s alright, just means I’ll have to get you used to them.”
“Something tells me that you have a hard time accepting them too.” Your hand landed next to his arm, just a graze of your fingertips.
“Well, we’re not talking about me now.”
You wondered what it would take to get him flustered. “Hmm, so what if I told you that I find you extraordinary? That every time you would get pulled away from our conversations, you somehow got even sexier, no matter how disappointed I was.” You could feel gooseflesh along his forearm that you had been idly tracing. He was turning so red. “Jack Abbot, are you blushing?”
He cleared his throat and stood up, “Think those lemon squares are calling my name.”
You were in a fit of laughter on the couch as you watched him devour one in two bites. “Oh, well let me know how they are then.” Part of you was worried he might choke on the dessert.
“Fucking menace,” he mumbled through the mouthful. You asked him if they were good, his only response was, “Delicious.”
It was getting lonely on the couch now. “I promise I won’t tease you if you come back.”
He brushed away any leftover crumbs before settling in next to you again, much closer than before. “Uh-huh, I highly doubt that.” His hand came up, brushed away a flyaway from your temple, and then his touch stayed there. A steady movement while his eyes traced over every inch of your face, he wanted this image of you printed and hung up in his mind. The way you looked right now, cheeks flushed, relaxed on his couch, in his home. You’re so beautiful to him.
“You gonna kiss me Jack?”
“Only if you’ll let me–” you couldn’t wait any longer. There was zero shame in the way you threw yourself at him. The fabric of his shirt clenched in your fist to drag him closer. Your lips collided together, and it felt–quiet–like your brain could finally shut away every insecurity and doubt in this moment as long as you could still feel his lips against yours.
Sugar and lemon had never tasted so sweet.
He wasted no time in planting his hands on your waist; they were desperate in the way they traced along your curves like he was finally getting his fill. Fingers guided a path up your spine until they found the back of your head
His other hand drifted up to cup your cheek, thumb softly pressing against your jaw to open you up for him. His tongue tracing your lips before meeting your own. “I wanted to do that the second you walked out of your apartment.”
Your laugh was breathless and a little high-pitched. “Honestly, I would have let you…”
He nuzzled into your cheek, pressing a multitude of kisses there and against the space below your ear, nipping at the soft curve of your jaw. “Well, I was determined to treat you right, would’ve never left that parking lot otherwise.” It felt vitalizing, knowing that this man wanted you, even if it was just want for now. Now he gripped the collar of your turtleneck, stretching it down so he could get his lips on you there too.
The feeling of him pulling the sensitive skin of your neck between his lips, his teeth, it had you curling your fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer. You raised yourself up, knees digging into the couch, leaning over him, above him. A tug at his curls had him pulling away from his task, hooded eyes gazing up at you, making him ask what was wrong. “Just know that if you leave a hickey, I’m leaving one right back. And I will not be subtle about where it goes.” You knew exactly where you would put it too. Right where his neck meets his shoulder, that way it could peek out from his collar every time the muscles tensed.
His smirk was satisfied and lazy, leaning forward, short, quick pecks against your lips. “Noted.” He kept creeping forward until you found yourself falling backwards onto the cushion behind you, but he slowed the descent. Then he was the one above you, and the whole thing just made you giggle. Jack brushed his nose against yours, your smile kissing his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” you felt like it in this moment, not even a hint of desire to argue.
You don’t know how much time passed while he kissed you. And that was all he did, which, to be fair, he’s very good at it. But he didn’t try to push anything further; it made you feel like a wild animal with the way you were clawing at his back, his sides, his stomach. Anywhere you could reach, just to get a hint of the warmth he’s hiding from you.
“I uh–I brought condoms, I mean technically Trinity brought them from the hospital–” God, you were rambling, why the hell would you bring up your sister right now?
He lifted his head away from your neck, “Wait…Trinity gave you stolen condoms from the hospital?”
“Is it technically stealing if they’re free?”
“Technically they’re for patients.” Jack briefly slipped into teacher mode, you’ve had the privilege of seeing that switch multiple times over the last month.
You tried to brush off the potential theft by bringing him closer, “Okay then, please ignore everything I just said.” You doubt your sister would be in trouble for swiping condoms, but it’s kind of funny considering her choice of partner.
He looked affronted, “Frankly, I’m just disappointed you didn’t think I’d have better ones.”
“That’s what you’re focused on?” It felt nice to be able to laugh with someone like this, even in intimate moments.
He nuzzled into your neck, softly biting down on every inch of skin he could reach. “You should know I’d never make you buy them, it’s not your job. But I do admire you for being prepared.” All you wanted to focus on was the promise of future meetings like this, but he found a particularly sensitive spot that made you sigh beneath him. His smile extended across your neck before whispering in your ear, “And uh, just to be clear, we’re not having sex tonight sweetheart.”
“Oh..” you’d never felt your body sour with disappointment so quickly before.
“But I would very much like to take care of you if you’ll let me.” He responded before that disappointment could fester, before it settled on your features and made your brain come up with a thousand questions. None of your previous partners had ever wanted to work up to something, they never even bothered to just talk about it.
“Oh…” God if that didn’t make you want him even more now.
There was a need to put distance, not too much of course, but just enough to stress that he was serious. “I need you to know that this–this isn’t all I want from you. I want to know you, and I want you to know me. Fuck, I haven’t wanted that in a long time.”
“I want that too Jack.” His lips were quick to find yours again, messy and desperate, knowing neither of you were going anywhere for a good while. “So when you say ‘take care of me’...”
You could feel the vibration of his laughter as you led him with the question. “I mean, I’d like to make you come,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “with my fingers,” the other side, “my mouth,” your lips, “only if you’d like that as well?”
Your head was bobbing up and down before he could even finish. Both of you laughing before coming together again for a quick kiss. “I’d like that a lot actually.”
His hands were bolder now, tracing along your waist until they settled against your back. It’s like his hand had found a perfect resting place there. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at the material of your shirt.
A tug against his, “Only if you’re taking yours off too.” He chuckled, and you could hear him say ‘fair enough’ under his breath. He leaned back and gathered the material of his henley behind his neck before practically ripping it off and throwing it behind him.
This man and his freckles should never be allowed to be covered by scrubs again; it’s a crime. “Jesus…” he looked at you questioningly before glancing down at his chest like there was something he wasn’t seeing. “You’re ridiculously fit Jack, how do you even find the time?”
He gave a small shrug of his shoulders that felt more like a personal show than anything. “It’s all about balance sweetheart.” The word balance was spoken like a new-age yoga instructor.
“Balance my ass.”
Lips brushed against your forehead since he was too busy laughing at the way you were ogling him. “Your turn, arms up.” Fuck, okay, here goes nothing, you thought, lifting your arms up as he instructed. He didn’t take it off all at once though, there were stages. The pants you wore sat high on your waist, so every time he lifted the shirt higher, he would explore the exposed skin of your stomach until it reached the lace of the black bralette you wore. This continued until the material was bunched above your breasts and didn’t fall back down on its own. Jack was a very patient man; you figured he had to be in his line of work, but now you were reaping the benefits of the years it took to build.
It turned you on even more to see him take the time to fold your shirt and place it on the coffee table instead of chucking it to the side like he did his own. When he turned back, he took a moment to just look at you. You knew he was admiring you, could feel it, but fuck, you needed him to say something because you were about two seconds away from covering yourself with the blanket along the couch.
“Fuck you’re gorgeous sweetheart.” His palm rested against your stomach, right above the button of your pants. You thought that’s where his fingers would be heading next, but instead they travelled upwards between your breasts, resting at the base of your throat. You knew he wouldn’t curl those fingers higher, not without your permission. He tilted your chin up, lips meeting yours in a soft, almost thankful kiss. It was like he was trying to make you cry again.
Your hands hadn’t moved away from his forearms, and you couldn’t understand why you were so hesitant to move them up. Especially when you had been thinking about getting your hands on him for a month now. As if he could sense your struggle, he said, “You can touch me baby, not like you ever had to find an excuse to before.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t act like you’re so innocent, always reaching out whenever you brush past me, excuse me Jack,” his voice was teasingly pitched up to mimic yours. You couldn’t help but laugh, still you tried to say he was wrong. “Or when I’d help you carry something, you’re so sweet Jack, making me lose my damn mind.”
You shook your head at his ridiculousness. “Never heard you complain.”
He inched closer until he was flush against you, the hair on his chest rubbing against lace, tickling your skin. “Now, why would I go and do something stupid like that?” There was no hesitation in your touch now, hands running along his biceps, his chest, like art that no longer had a do-not-touch sign on it. He was so warm you’d think he’d just come in from the sun, and so firm. You’d never been with someone who had such a soft strength to them. He shuddered when your nails lightly scratched along his shoulder to the back of his head. A soft choked groan told you that you might have found a weakness of his.
“And what about this?” He asked, finger lightly tracing over your nipple through the lace. You froze beneath him, it was involuntary, but your brain couldn’t help but stutter.
“Uh, leave it for now, it’s a pain to get back on.” You just needed a bit of coverage, just a bit, and you’d be fine.
He didn’t believe you, but if it made you comfortable, then that was that, “Okay, baby.” There wasn’t a moment to dwell on it, his tongue kept you occupied. His lips only left yours when you practically had to push him away for oxygen, even then, he just trailed his lips down your neck. Eager to explore the skin that had been hidden by the collar of your shirt.
“I thought you were so handsome the day I met you, I nearly dropped the food I was carrying. Wondered what I’d have to do to get these arms around me.” You don’t know what made you confess it, you just wanted him to know. He chuckled, head nuzzling into your cleavage, at least what little there was of it. You adored the way his stubble felt against your skin and wondered if it would feel just as good everywhere else.
His tongue reached out to swipe along the top of your breast. “There were so many times I saw you at the center, wanted to come up to you, knew all you had to do was say hi, and I’d be gone. Could kick myself for being such a coward.”
It was your turn to kiss his forehead, and the way he leaned into it made you smile. “That why you tried to get me a job there after knowing me all of five minutes?”
By the end of the night you were sure his smirk would be branded into your skin. “Guilty. Couldn’t help the fact that I wanted to see more of you. Still can’t help it.”
“Well, you did manage to get me for four more hours a week, actually less considering how often you get pulled away.” He nipped your skin at the reminder of his short time with you on the days that you come in for work.
“Don’t worry, I’m working on a way to sneak you into the room with me.”
You giggled at the idea. “Sure you are.” His fingers brushed the lace against the top of your breast, asking if he could tug it down, so you just did it for him. Eager to feel his fingers, too impatient to actually give him an answer. His hand was so large and warm, covering the expanse of your breast, tweaking your nipples to stiff peaks. “Wait, so does that mean you lied about not recognizing me at first?”
His lips wrapped around the taught flesh, taking his time before responding. “Oh yeah, I knew it was you the second you walked through the ambulance bay. Never would have guessed who you were related to though.”
“Yeah, let’s not bring up my sister right now. She’s already been brought up one too many times since things had gotten hot and heavy.
“Agreed.” Jack lavished the same attention on the other side, sadly leaving your skin to cool, his spit tattooing your skin.
“You can bite them, please.” It was a question, plea, and demand all in one. Your breasts weren’t really sensitive unless a bit of pressure was applied to them, and it’s like Jack knew that better than you did. He groaned against your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth with even pressure, more teeth.
The only thing you could do was card your fingers through his hair and hold him close to you. Unable to take his eyes meeting yours for a few moments at a time before it became too much, seeing the pure want in them. He was determined to leave your chest littered with his marks.
His thumb brushed against the metal button on your pants, slowly undoing them like he was still giving you the chance to change your mind. The zipper being dragged down felt almost too loud in the room, and he broke it up with short kisses to your chest, your neck, anywhere he could reach. Once your pants were opened, his hands were quick to dip beneath the fabric, but you halted them before they could move any farther down.
“Uhm, I haven’t–I don’t really shave down there…”
He shook his head in disbelief but still pressed a kiss against your temple. “Baby that doesn’t bother me one bit alright, it’s meant to be there. Only thing I want you focused on is feeling good okay?” Both of his hands reached to grip your ass over the fabric of your underwear, a low groan leaving the back of his throat as he pulled you closer. “Okay?” He waited for you to respond, a soft okay echoing his as you lifted up your hips to pull the fabric down.
Both socks were taken off by him as well, with a kiss placed on each knee before he moved back up to explore the new territory. They weren’t random kisses like you thought at first. He was tracing the pattern of your stretch marks, his nose following the lines with his lips not far behind. “M’not ashamed to admit that I got myself off dreaming about the day I’d be lucky enough to get my hands on you. Had me feeling like a horny teenager all over again.” His words were slightly muffled as they were spoken through kisses placed against your stomach.
You gently tilted his face up to look at you, “What does it mean if I thought about you then?”
He loomed over you, “Oh, you dirty fucking girl,” whispered against your lips. Your tongue darting out to catch a taste, and he offered even more. Hands tracing over your thighs, excited to have so much to explore, to hold, every curve and divot.
His palm reached down to cup your pussy over your panties, a deep ‘fuck’ moaned against your chin after your lips disconnected, head tilted back with a gasp. “You feel how wet you are for me?” All you could manage was a whimper as his touch grew firmer.
Teeth nipping at your jaw, “Talk to me baby, tell me how you play with this pretty pussy.”
The tip of his finger traced over your lips, pressing down onto your clit through the fabric. “Fuck Jack…”
Nails were digging into his shoulder. “Do you take your time? Build yourself up? Or are you desperate like me, huh? You want it to last, but you know how good it’ll feel…”
You wanted to answer, but he was making it increasingly difficult. Especially now that he was moving beneath the waistband of your underwear. “I–I never take my time, just–just figure what’s the point?”
He paused, and you cursed yourself, “What’s the point?”
Was that the wrong thing to say? “Y-yeah…”
Fuck, his fingers felt so much better like this, you thought. “Oh sweetheart, you should be taking time with yourself, should be feeling all of it. Especially if you’re thinking about me.” Clearly you weren’t as imaginative as you thought, since you would have never thought he’d be this talkative with you.
“You’re–fuck your fingers feel so good.” You nearly bucked away from him when he curled them so deeply inside you, it had you scrambling for the armrest. His smirk grew above you as he repeated the motion, forcing a whine from the back of your throat.
“Trust me, I can feel how much you like them.” Smug bastard.
There was no rush to get you off, no ridiculous slamming fingers or rough movements that you didn’t ask for. He was genuinely taking the time to understand your body, to find the right angle, the right pressure that would make you sing for him. Every sigh, moan, and whimper was another correct answer he was studying so hard for. “You getting close baby?”
“Yes, yes, please fuck, right there Jack.” The back of your head dug into the armrest, neck arching under his tongue, desperate for something that was so, so close.
His free hand reached up to hold your jaw, bringing you back to him. “Nuh-uh, don’t look away, I wanna watch you come apart on my fingers.” It was too much, he was too much, your eyes were fluttering shut again. “Keep those eyes open for me gorgeous.” You can do that, for him, you could.
He leaned back, adjusted his angle, and it had you releasing a sound you didn’t know you were capable of. “That’s it, that’s a good girl.” His fingers picked up the pace, keeping the same motion, and when his thumb brushed against your clit you held on to the arm that kept your gaze locked onto his. He kept taking you higher and higher until it felt like you were plummeting back onto the couch, back into your body. You don’t even remember what you said to him, it was so breathless and quick, an unintelligible stream of his name, curses, and begging.
The palm of his hand kept up a gentle caress along your cunt, until you were done shaking. Occasionally, his fingers would lightly dip back in to feel how wet you were after coming for him. His nose nuzzled into your cheek, short kisses trailing down to your mouth. “You alright?”
Your hand that had been gripping the back of his neck relaxed, gently massaging the tension beneath. A soft “Mhm,” was muffled against his kiss. “I didn’t think you’d be such a talker,” you said once he let you breathe again.
“Is that a bad thing?” The question made you want to roll your eyes. Obviously he knew it wasn’t, he could feel exactly what his words did to you.
Your head lazily shook back and forth, “Fuck no, not bad, not bad at all.”
“You look so beautiful when you come sweetheart.” Cheeks heating despite everything that just happened had you turning your face into his shoulder. “Uh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, we’re working on compliments, remember.”
“Oh fuck you,” you said through giggles as he licked a particularly ticklish spot on your neck.
His lips began a path down the curve of your stomach again. “Hmm, not tonight, but I’d love to eat you out if that’s on table?”
The question made you shiver, your pussy clenching down on nothing, wishing you had his fingers in you again. “Figured you’d be full by now.”
He looked up at you from where he was trying to devour the space where your thigh met your hip. “Nah, I saved plenty of room for dessert,” so you definitely weren’t imagining that double meaning yesterday. You felt a puff of air against the swollen lips of your cunt, “You gonna let me taste you now?” All you could offer was a nod since it was too difficult to think with his head between your thighs.
It shouldn’t have surprised you that he didn’t dive right in. Instead, he kissed all along your inner thigh, higher than he was able to explore before. He gave so many ignored parts of yourself affection, like it was always meant to be given. Slowly, so slowly, when he was satisfied, he licked a long stripe up your pussy, tongue curling at the end to collect everything it could. “Jesus sweetheart, you taste so fucking good,” he barely finished his sentence with a groan before practically unhinging his jaw to devour your cunt.
He had been slow and gentle with his fingers, but his tongue acted like you were a meal about to be taken from him. “Oh f-fuck Jack, that’s–you’re so…”
“So what,” he asked, releasing the suction around your clit with a wet pop. Opening you up with his thumb so that he could get a good look at you. “So what baby?”
“So good, Jack, you’re so good.” Turns out you weren’t the only one that coveted a bit of praise.
“Hmm, I’m still learning,” another lick, “still gotta figure out what you like.”
“Doctors and their case studies, huh.” He chuckled against your pussy, and it had you jolting forward with a whimper.
“Nice to know you’ve still got jokes even when I’m eating you out.” His efforts redoubled before you could actually make another one. For a while, it was just you trying and failing to catch your breath until he slowed down again. Your hand reached for the one that was digging into your thigh bringing it up so that his fingers could wrap around your breast. He was close enough to feel the rapid drumming of your heart, and you could feel his own heavy pulse from where your hand was wrapped around his wrist.
His pace slowed down, desperate to drag this out, desperate to fuck you with his tongue. “God Jack.” It was guttural, you didn’t even know your voice could reach a pitch that deep, fading into a whimper. “I-I wanna make you feel good too Jack.” This was new to you, the focus, the attention, the drive to make sure that you feel divine.
Your eyes focused on the movement of his hips as he grinded himself into the couch, his lips parting, air blowing on your pussy. “Oh baby, you have no idea how good I feel right now.”
“Fuck, it’s-it’s never…” It was almost embarrassing, the way you couldn’t even complete a sentence.
“Never what?”
“It’s never been this good.” A compliment and a confession all in one. How could you have known it’d make you emotional, tears stinging at your eyes that you tried to blink away. You couldn’t look at him now, but everything still felt so good.
His arms wrapped around you as best as he could with his mouth being occupied. A tight hug, part of you wished for tighter, for him to crush you against him. “I know baby, I know…”
Your other hand reached down to bury into his curls, which had become unruly throughout this entire ordeal, but they were oh so soft. The groan he let out when you tugged made your back arch, thighs spreading open even further. Jack wasted no time in occupying the space, pressing himself even closer, smothering himself in your pussy. “M’gonna make sure you know what it’s like to be taken care of.” Why did that almost sound like a threat?
“Please, Jack baby, please.”
“You can let go, I’m not going anywhere. Want you to know exactly where I want to be.” Between your thighs, in your arms, standing behind you in support. His voice was husky, a gentle, hard-edged promise. Your hands couldn’t seem to figure out which part of him to hold onto. One entwined with his on your thigh, the other held onto the side of his face, holding his cheek in your palm. It was an entirely new sensation to feel the muscles of his jaw moving beneath your fingertips as he worked to bring you over the edge.
His mouth lifted to press a wet kiss against your palm before diving back down, getting lost in his task. “Need you to come on my face sweetheart, need to feel it.” Your brain zeroed in on that word, need, need, need, and fuck if you didn’t need it more.
He didn’t let up until you were tugging too harshly at his hair. Your heightened gasps echoed in his living room, a few bursts of disbelieving laughter mixed in. His hand coming up to rest against the middle of your chest, slowly rubbing small circles into your skin. “Breathe baby, breathe.”
You were worried you might cry again once you finally caught your breath, once you finally settled, but you buried it down. “Thank you.”
His head shook at your soft gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said through soft laughter.
Jack was a bit surprised at your strength, attempting to pull him up so that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Oh no, I really, really, do. I hate stroking your ego, but fuck that was…amazing.” Both of you were laughing now.
“Ridiculous,” he teasingly mumbled against your collarbone. “Just you wait, I’ve got plans for you now that I’ve got a sense for what you like.”
You brushed away a curl that had stuck to his forehead, “Hmm, what about you?”
“Me? I’m good baby, trust me.”
It was like a foggy memory finally clearing up. You remembered his groans getting louder, his hands molding into your skin, the slight whimper. “Did you…”
It was him that couldn’t meet your eyes this time. “Yeah, yeah, sorry…”
“Jack baby, please don’t apologize, that’s really fucking hot.” You had to tease him, how could you not? This was a big first for you. “But I know damn well I don’t taste that good, so do you just really love eating pussy or…”
His finger was tracing over a blossoming purple mark above your breast. “Ohhh, I beg to differ. I’d have you with my coffee everyday if I could.” He winked at you, and it tempted you to push his head back down for another taste, “and yes, I do love eating pussy thank you very much, yours especially.” His teeth nipped at your shoulder, causing you to let out a surprised grunt and playfully push him away
He just pulled you close, "If I'm honest, it was the way you were holding me while I was doing it, if that makes sense. Feeling your fingers in my hair–fuck it felt good baby–but when you reached down to hold my jaw, your thumb against my cheek, drove me fucking crazy sweetheart.” In his mind, he was planning on making you come at least once more before you got off this couch. He was already warming you up to the idea with his mouth, “What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
Unwilling to fully break away from you, he left a few kisses against your jaw so you could answer. “Not until ten thankfully,” you glanced over at the clock on his stove, seeing that it was past twelve already. “Shit, it’s late, I should probably get home before Trinity brings out the searchlight.” Usually, you’d already be in bed by now, but the hours had slipped by unknowingly between the two of you.
He was fully prepared to get up and change his pants to go take you home, but he was selfish and not ready to give you up for the night just yet. “Yeah…or you could stay, text her that you’re okay, and I can bring you back tomorrow morning before you have to get ready. I make a pretty good breakfast sandwich too.”
Spending the night on the first date would be another new one for you. The desire to spend a few more hours in his arms already had you deciding that you’d stay for a whole week if he asked. “Oh, I’m definitely not doubting your capabilities after tonight. Will there be coffee included?”
How is that even a question? The look he gave you asked before leaning in to kiss you as best he could through his smile. “Mhm, told you I wanted to have you with my coffee in the morning.”
taglist:
@julllliiiii86
a/n: if y'all want more of this pairing plz like, comment and reblog, hell even feel free to dm if there's something you really wanna see. also here's my masterlist if you're interested!
so are we just supposed to ignore kendrick lamar having lyrics about killing trans women? “toupee drop and a dude just popped out t of that tank top and bra / and when i say du du du du, bitch that be k-dot” ? he’s talking about shooting and killing a woman when he finds out she’s trans aka trans panic. he’s a vile transphobe, why are you platformong him?
think you've got the wrong lyrics there
Toupée drop and her two tits pop
Out of that tank top and bra
And when I say "Doo-doo-doo-doo," bitch, that be K. Dot
and notably in context he is. not talking about murdering the woman he's rapping about here? from the genius annotations
A Toupée is an artificial hair piece, for all practical purposes, a wig. Toupée, like touche and en garde, is a french word.
Toupee is being used here in the sense of a convertible…like drop the top…when Kendrick is driving and drops the top on his convertible, his girl can’t help but get a little loose and let the girls out.
This ["doo-doo-doo-doo"] is Kendrick’s signature ad-lib likely developed from his song “Cartoon & Cereal.” This ad-lib is meant to resemble gunshots. This is something Kendrick came used to due to his upbringing in Compton, a city known notoriously for its high crime rate.
K-Dot was Kendrick’s original rap name, and has now become an alter-ego. While Kendrick himself is laid back and calm, K-Dot is the more aggressive Compton side.
but thanks for sending me three separate asks about how kendrick lamar loves killing trans women. nothing about this feels racist at all
Kendrick noteably has a song about his uncle (a trans man) and his cousin (a trans woman) that is probably up there as one of his most heartfelt songs of all time, but I remember on an old blog where I once posted one thing about Kendrick and someone immediately jumped into my inbox berating me for talking about an antisemitic artist (and similarly to the above anon, they had completely confused their information).
I know Kendrick isn’t perfect, but I used to talk about a lot of artists on my old blog and coincidentally it was only the Black artists that had multiple people explaining to me exactly why I shouldn’t listen to them, with baseless and incorrect information that they hadn’t bothered to look up properly. I don’t just think this anon is being racist, I know they are because the second you mention a rap artist, it seems like every white person on tumblr has to crawl out of the woodwork and try to hide their overall disdain for Black artists with random excuses as to why those artists are the most dangerous and violent people alive.
You’re not slick. You could’ve spent five seconds searching up “Kendrick Lamar and trans women” into Google and you’d immediately be linked to Auntie Diaries, but you decided to choose a misheard lyric in a song that didn’t mention trans women once and berate someone for sharing a single Black artist. I’ve seen these games before, anon!!
And not just any Black artist, either, but one who is like… actively trans supportive! I’ve said it before, but Kendrick Lamar has done more for me as a trans man than pretty much every white popstar that tumblr loves to put on a pedestal for simply saying “protect the dolls” once in an interview. Kendrick’s not the perfect ally, but he sure as hell is a genuine one.
Anyway, go listen to Mr Morales & The Big Steppers.
do i wanna know? - bonus chapter: jack abbot is losing his f*cking mind
𑣲summary: jack thought he had finally gotten rid of you.
𑣲contains: black!fem!reader but anyone can read. jack might be ooc. samira is lowkey obsessed with you. samira is referred to as jack's girl.
jack hadn't realized how far gone he truly was. it had been a few days since he apologized to you for hurting your feelings at dinner. a few days since the two of you had agreed to a truce, and few days since you told him you'd give him and samira space. he thought he had finally won. he thought that you giving them the space he they needed would give him some peace of mind, but he was completely wrong.
he and samira finally had a day off of work at the same time, so what does jack do? he takes his girl out for the day. he thought they would finally get to spend some time together without you in the way. again, jack was wrong. all samira could do all day was work your name into every single thing.
jack took her to that fancy coffee shop she likes. samira brought up how she remembers your coffee order word for word.
jack took her shopping. samira found a shirt she thought you'd like and made him buy it for you.
jack took her out for lunch. samira talked about you the entire time. she talked about how you would like a specific dish from that restaurant and how she should take you there sometime. while she and jack waited for their food, she talked about something embarrassing that happened during med school when the two of you went bar hopping. when their food arrived, she ate some of her food and talked about how good it was and how she should save some for you to try because you would like it.
jack wanted her to shut up because truthfully he could never get rid of you. you had made such an impact on his girl's life (and his, but he won't admit it). he knew samira loved you so deeply it made him believe she actually might be in love with you, but that was impossible, right? his girl loved him so much, so he pushed the thought out of his mind.
he thought keeping you out of his sight, out of his mind, and especially out of his home, would work. once again jack was wrong. he began to be the one thinking about you.
one night during shift change when he said goodbye to samira, he asked her if you were going to be accompanying her home. when she told him no, he became disappointed because why the hell not? then he remembered he had pushed you away. jack silently cursed himself for pushing you away because who was going to take care of his girl when he couldn't? but then he thought about who was taking care of you if samira wasn't?
he found himself thinking of you throughout his shift. he thought of what you could be doing since you weren't home with samira. were you alone? but then again you probably weren't because he remembered javadi replaced samira as your roommate. then he cursed himself once more for thinking that javadi replaced samira because she couldn't be replaced. so he corrected himself, javadi is your new roommate. it hit him again that samira was home all alone without you or him there with her.
his thoughts were eating him alive. his girls were without each other and it was his fault.
do i wanna know? - chapter two: guess who's coming to dinner?
𑣲summary: samira invites you to dinner unbeknownst to jack.
𑣲contains: black!fem!reader but anyone can read. reader uses she/her pronouns. use of y/n. swearing. jack is kinda mean to you. mention of suicide. doesn't follow the exact plot of the pitt. some characters may be ooc. unknown word count. i don't think i proofread well enough.
𑣲guide: y/n - your name, y/l/n - your last name
you arrived to samira and jack's place a few minutes early with dessert just like she told you to bring. you brought brownies and a tub of vanilla ice cream. you knocked on their door while balancing the items you brought and waited for someone to answer. shortly after you heard someone unlocking the door, that someone happened to be jack.
"y/n? what are you doing here?" he asked with a confused look on his face.
"geez, that was rude." you replied. "samira told me to come over for dinner. i'm assuming she didn't tell you."
"you're right about that." he moved to the side to let you in and you made your way to the kitchen so you could put the ice cream in the freezer.
when you made it to the kitchen you found samira there, still cooking. she turned around and her face lit up when she saw you standing there.
"you made it!" she exclaimed. "let me guess, you brought brownies."
you nodded and sat the pan of brownies on the counter, then moved over to the freezer to put away the ice cream.
"you didn't tell jack i was coming." you scolded samira who went back to cooking. "i think he's... upset, sami."
"oh, like you care." she said.
"i don't." you admitted.
you watched her as she was cooking and silently admired her features. her hair was pulled back neatly with a claw clip so you were able to take in how beautiful her features were. this woman was truly so beautiful that you had no choice but to admire her. now she was looking at you with concern because you zoned out from admiring her.
"you alright?" she snapped you out of your thoughts. you just nodded. "okay, because you were just staring."
"i was thinking about work." you lied. samira knew that you were lying, but she decided not to push.
"well, dinner is done."
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
after dinner you volunteered to go to the kitchen to fix dessert while samira and jack remained in the dining room.
"why didn't you tell me she was coming over?" jack whispered to samira.
"i didn't think you'd mind." samira shrugged. "y/n, comes over all the time."
"a heads up would've been nice, 'mira." jack sighed and ran a hand over his face.
shortly after you came around the corner balancing three bowls in your arms. samira noticed that jack was visibly annoyed. she began to understand what y/n meant in their messages from earlier.
"why are y'all so quiet?" you asked as you placed the bowls on the table and sat down in your seat.
"just waiting for you." samira answered and slid one of the bowls toward her. "actually, i wanted to talk to the both of you about something."
samira was a bit nervous about the topic. she loved you and jack dearly, and she hated the idea of you and jack not getting along with each other. she was scared that the conversation would go sideways.
"about what? everything alright 'mira?" jack questioned.
"everything's fine, jack." samira reassured him. "it's just that i noticed you and y/n don't necessarily get along very well."
the energy in the room shifted instantly. jack glared at you and you felt like you had snitched on him or something.
"what do you mean? y/n and i get along just fine." he lied.
there was no reason for him to lie. it's clear that you and jack aren't each other's favorite people.
"jack, you don't have to lie." you said. "i don't like you and at least i'm honest about that."
"y/n, be nice." samira scolded you. "but yes, y/n is being honest. why can't you, jack?"
jack didn't not like you. he just didn't like that you were always around samira. he didn't like that you knew her before him. he didn't like that samira loves you so much. he didn't like how she always spoke so highly of you. he didn't like how you were always a topic in their conversations. to be honest jack was jealous of you. it was silly of him to be jealous of his girlfriend's best friend, but how could he not be jealous of you? before he built up the courage to ask samira out, he'd always seen you by her side and secretly wished it were him instead.
when he first met you, he let his jealousy get the best of him. you were working an overnight shift and the ED needed a psych consult with a young female patient who was brought in after a suicide attempt. you were so sweet when you introduced yourself, but jack was cold and short with you.
he saw how good you were with the patient. how you spoke to her with care and how easily she became comfortable with you. his jealousy grew so much that when you came to debrief with him, he unintentionally belittled you about your observations. his rudeness obviously upset you and he later on regretted how rude he was to you, but the damage was already done. you already made up your mind about him.
when he and samira began seeing each other, you already had your own opinions about him, but she really liked him so your opinions didn't matter. you choose to tolerate him as long as he was good to samira.
now the three of you were sitting at the dinner table in samira and jack's house, discussing if you and jack got along with each other and it was all because of jack's jealousy.
"truthfully, y/n, i do like you." he admitted. "you're a good friend to 'mira, but you're just around a lot and i don't get her to myself."
"so that's your problem with me?" you scoffed.
jack obviously wasn't going to admit that he was jealous of you.
"yes, that's my problem with you." he lied. "i wish you would give us some space. i feel like you're invading my home and my relationship.
samira turned to jack and gave him a scowl. you felt a pang in your chest. you hadn't given it much thought before, but now it made you feel bad. you weren't a monster. maybe you were invading his relationship with samira.
"i'm sorry you feel that way." you apologized. "i think it's time for me to go home."
"y/n, don't go, please." samira pleaded.
"no, sami. it's fine." you said as you got up to gather your belongings. "i'll give jack the space he wants."
samira shot a disappointed look at jack and followed you to the hallway while jack remained seated at the dinner table. a wave of guilt washed over jack. he didn't understand why he suddenly felt so guilty if he didn't want you around. maybe because of samira's disappointment or maybe because deep down he actually enjoyed you being around.
jack rose from his seat and walked to the hallway where samira was trying to convince you stay longer. you already had your purse on your shoulder, shoes on your feet, and keys in your hand ready to walk out when he came into view.
"sami, it's fine. i have work in the morning anyway." you tried reassuring your best friend again.
"but i don't want you to go." samira whined. "stay, please."
jack walked closer as samira continued begging you not to leave. he could tell there was no convincing you to stay and it was his fault. maybe he should've just been honest about his jealousy. maybe you'd like him more if he were honest with you. maybe he wanted you to like him.
samira couldn't convince you to stay so she walked you outside to your car while jack stayed inside. when samira returned, she moved past him without speaking.
"sweetheart, i'm sorry." jack apologized and followed behind her. "i shouldn't have said anything."
"but you did." she muttered. "and you upset her."
samira was enraged. he wasn't allowed to make you feel like that. no one was allowed to make you feel like that.
"she needed to hear the truth."
"she is my best friend and you had no right to upset her." samira shot back. "we have been there for each other for the past eight years. it's obviously going to be hard for us to not want to be with each other twenty-four seven."
"but she doesn't have to be here all the time." jack argued. "i've known robby longer than that, but do you see him waltzing around here every damn day."
how dare he minimize the friendship between you and samira just because you haven't known each other as long as he and robby have?
"i don't give a fuck how long you've known robby." samira snapped. "y/n is my best friend. you had no right to upset her."
jack realized he couldn't argue with her because she was right. he had no right to upset you.
"you're going to apologize to her and until then you'll sleep on the couch." she commanded. "am i clear enough for you?"
"yes." he nodded. "i'm sorry, 'mira."
"apologize to y/n, not me." she stormed off, leaving jack to wallow in his guilt.
THE NEXT MORNING
it was early in the morning and you were walking through PTMC's parking garage. dinner with samira and jack last night was still weighing on you heavily. you could barely sleep through the night because all you could do was think about what you should do. should you give jack and samira some space so you don't ruin their relationship? or should you ignore jack's feelings out of spite and continue with you and samira's normal routine?
maybe javadi was right that samira would understand if you gave them space. you didn't want to ruin jack and samira's relationship. just because jack wasn't your favorite person, doesn't mean that you would ruin their relationship out of spite.
just as you were going over your decision, jack popped up out of nowhere and he noticed you.
"there you are. i was looking for you." he announced.
"why?"
"i'm sorry about last night." he apologized. "it was wrong of me to upset you."
"it's all good, jack." you replied. "as much as i hate to say it, you were right and your feelings are valid."
jack was stunned by your response. he expected a different reaction from you.
"i want to call a truce between us." you proposed. "i'll give you and samira the space you need, and you and i can be cordial with each other. how does that sound?"
"that sounds..." jack hesitated. "great. that sounds great."
"okay, well i have to get to work."
"right, great talking to you." jack stood there watching you walk off for a moment. maybe this is what was best for the three of you.
a/n: hi everyone! i know it's been a while since i've updated, but i was dealing with writer's block, medical emergencies, and finals season. thankfully that's all over and i will try my best to update more often. thank you all for reading!
𑣲contains: black!fem!reader, but anyone can read. reader uses she/her pronouns. reader is a member of a divine 9 sorority, but which one isn't specified by name. it is implied that reader's family is pretty wealthy. mentions of death.
the first day you and samira met was the day you both moved into your first shared apartment. it was a hot morning in august. the two of you had no idea who the other person was. samira had zero faith in the roommate matching system because her last few roommates were the worst. you, on the other hand, were excited to meet your new roommate because the roommates you had during undergrad became some of your closest friends.
when samira first arrived, you were already there, and your family was there helping you move in. samira was already nervous before walking in, but now, nervous was an understatement. seeing such a large group of people, when she expected only one person, made her shoulders tense up a bit.
you immediately introduced yourself with a wide smile, and your entire family followed behind. when your mother introduced herself, she engulfed samira in a bone-crushing hug. for a moment, samira stood frozen, stunned by your family’s openness. she didn’t know how to react to such welcoming strangers, but she managed to give you all a small smile as the tension in her shoulders began to ease a little.
your father noticed samira was alone, so he offered himself and your younger brother to help her unload her car. as they started carrying her things, samira felt a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. she was used to doing things herself and was almost embarrassed by how quickly your family treated her like she was one of their own. when she tried to pick up a heavy box, your father immediately took the box away from her and suggested she should grab one of the lighter boxes so she wouldn't hurt herself. samira had never met people like you and your family before. later on you would tell her that you were raised in the south and almost everyone you knew was like that. it was simple southern hospitality.
later that day, when you were both done unpacking, your family had to leave, but they had a hard time getting out of the apartment because your mother was in full-blown tears.
"my baby's leaving me again." your mother sobbed as your father tried to console her.
"she was a lot worse when i moved into my first dorm." you had whispered to samira.
after many goodbyes and your mother breaking out into tears multiple times, your family finally left.
you and samira were alone, so you decided to order takeout and get to know each other. the two of you talked about undergrad and what your experience was like.
during undergrad, you were involved in extracurricular activities, like charity events with your sorority and community events with the local shelters and boys and girls club. you even ran for your school's royal court and participated in the scholarship pageant of your sorority's brother fraternity.
"i didn't have time for clubs and stuff." samira shrugged.
which was true, samira didn’t have time for extracurricular activities because she was too focused on her studies. the only friends she had during undergrad were the ones from her study group, and they weren’t really her friends. if she wasn’t studying or in class, she was in her dorm resting, and she rarely did that.
"really?" you tilted your head. "i didn't really have a choice. my mom would've flipped if i didn't join her sorority or any other D9 sorority."
as the night went on, you and samira continued learning more about each other. you talked so late that by the time you finally fell asleep, the sun was already peaking through the blinds.
you learned that samira's father died of a heart attack when she was younger, and how his death and racial bias were the reasons she decided to study medicine. in return, you told her your reason for studying medicine was for similar reasons. it was your dream to become a doctor because you believed that people of color deserved to have doctors who looked like them taking care of them. medical racism was real, and you hated it.
days passed, and by the end of your first week living together, you and samira became inseparable. the two of you had similar goals and interests, so you both thought, why not help each other make those goals happen?
during your first two years of med school, you and samira studied together all the time. whether you were in your apartment’s living room, your favorite coffee shop, or the library, you kept each other on track. if one of you got sick, the other helped take care of you and made sure you didn’t fall behind in class. you took care of samira, and samira took care of you.
you brought a side out of samira that she didn’t know she had. you liked going out to bars and parties, but samira didn’t go out much. eventually, you grew tired of samira keeping herself shut up inside the apartment. you were determined to get her to go out.
“sami, get up and put this on.” you threw her a dress you had sitting in your closet.
“but-” samira tried to protest.
“no, ‘buts’, i’m not taking no for an answer.”
you got samira to start going out more. the times you would go out, you and samira always looked out for each other. always taking care of each other whenever you were drunk. holding each other’s hair as one of you threw up, and taking care of the next day’s hangover.
as you and samira grew closer, you became more affectionate towards each other. you would hold each other's hands all the time. walking through a crowded bar or party, walking from class to class, or sometimes you would hold hands just to hold hands. during your free time, you cuddled on the couch while watching reruns of your favorite shows. there were times when you would fall asleep in each other's beds and would wake up tangled in each other's arms. you were so affectionate with each other that your classmates thought you were in love.
during your first summer break together, you invited samira to spend time with your family in martha's vineyard. samira had never experienced such a carefree and loving environment before. your grandmother and aunties loved her. your grandfather told her endless stories about his own journey of becoming a successful doctor as a black man in the south. your family cooked constantly, so her belly was always full. by the end of the summer samira was sure she had gained weight from how much food she ate. she got along well with your cousins and younger siblings. samira loved your family, and your family loved her. when the summer was over, all samira could talk about was revisiting with you next year.
your third year felt like it came and went, and by the end of your fourth year, you already had your mind set on doing your residency in psychiatry after falling in love with it, and the same for samira with emergency medicine.
at some point throughout the four years of med school, you had fallen in love with samira. you began to notice her beauty more, to the point where just looking at her made you flustered. her touches began to linger on your skin more. holding her hand or hugging her started to feel intimate for you. her compliments left a lasting impression on your mind for days. you felt that you had to put an end to it, but it was impossible to stop loving someone like her. you weren’t sure when it happened, but you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with samira mohan.
Summary: You have a crush on both your attending, Baran Al-Hashimi, and the resident/person you look up to, Cassie McKay. So when your ride bails at the last minute, you take it as a blessing in disguise.
Word count: 6k
Warnings, age gaps, power imbalance, crushing, car sex, oral (R!receiving), multiple orgasms, strap use (R!receiving), exhibitionism, pet names (sweet girl, baby, filthy girl), praise, degradation, threesome(?) MEN AND MINORS GETTT OUTTT
🎵- Earned It
a/n: GUYS, I literally don't know what this is, but I wanted to at least get SOMETHING out of my drafts, so I finished this up, cleaned it up a little bit, and I hope you guys like it :)
You’ve had enough trouble trying not to dream about your mentor that it’s affected your daily life, but now, Dr Baran Al-Hashimi has made a permanent addition to the team, and you’re having to bite your fist after every interaction with them.
Now, you’re having wet dreams every night. You’ll wake up in a cold sweat, gripping your bed sheets and feeling the arousal between your legs. So you’ll ultimately grab your toy or, in desperate measures, simply your hand, and try to quell the ache.
Somehow your idiot brain had decided: Yes. Both. What an excellent idea.
So now you were trapped in your own personal nightmare every shift.
Because apparently one unattainable woman wasn’t enough.
Thankfully, you got the lucky end of the stick, and it’s just been talking to one of them one-on-one, not both. If you did talk to them at the same time, your ovaries would probably explode. However, you knew that luck had to eventually run out, and you would be sanctioned between the two brunettes at one point or another.
You sat hunched at one of the computer desks near the center station, eyes dry, shoulders aching, fingers mechanically typing through patient summaries while trying not to think about how badly your brain wanted to just completely shut down. The screen glowed harshly against your face, reflecting in tired eyes, while unfinished charts kept stacking up.
“Do you think they’ll let me join?” Trinity asks you, sighing as she plants her elbow on the counter where you’re charting.
“Um, what?” You reply, not looking away from the computer screen.
“Dr. Al and McKay.” She clarifies, and that finally gets your eyes to pull away. She stole a packet of crackers from your desk and pointed casually across the department.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on! They’re so fucking.”
“Who, Trinity? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Baran and Dr. McKay!”
You have to hold back a laugh. “Are you saying this because Yolanda stood you up for the 4th time this week?”
Trinity shoots you a glare. “No.”
“Are you sure they’re even together? I mean, they barely interact as it is.” You take a break from your charting to squint your eyes, trying to rid the blue light from them before turning to look where Trinity is.
“People hooking up at work never act obvious.” Trinity leaned closer. “You think they’d survive the gossip if they were obvious?”
You frowned, glancing toward where Cassie was crossing between trauma bays with a chart in hand. Her hair was pulled back messily, exhaustion visible even from here, but she still somehow looked unfairly pretty under hospital lighting.
Baran emerged from the opposite hallway at almost the exact same moment. The two passed each other with barely a glance, barely even a pause. But then Cassie smiled. It was tiny and quick, but a smile all the same, and Baran smiled back.
“They’re so fucking.” Trinity reiterates.
“I think they hate each other and are just being nice.” You shrug, before your eyes go back to Baran, and your soul nearly evacuates your body. “Go away,” you hissed at Trinity.
She grinned. “Oh, she caught you staring.”
“Leave right now.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I will report you.”
Trinity laughed while pushing herself out of the chair. “Good luck, chart monkey. Whatever. They’re fucking, and I know it.” She huffs before tapping the counter and walking off to find another case or something. What the hell was she talking about? Baran and Cassie together?
They barely give one another a second glance when walking side by side or past each other. You shake your head, trying to take another crack at charting before you drop your head to your shoulder and close your eyes.
“Need something?” Her voice comes right beside your ear, and you’re jumping in your seat.
Shit.
“No! No, I’m…” You fumbled for a grip on the voice recorder. “No, see. I’m charting.” She gave you a single, slow nod.
Al-Hashimi gave you a one-over as she walked past. “Smart girl.”
Your lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. She swallowed, throat suddenly dry, eyes trailing Baran’s smooth pace until she was out of your line of vision. That woman made you sweat a little.
You never minded when she told you you were doing well. Cassie would say the same thing. Great job’s and Good work’s were often her cup of tea. While Baran would call you ‘smart girl’ and all of that good stuff. It felt good. Anyone would like it, you try to tell yourself every night as you lie awake, staring at your ceiling. It meant a lot for a mentor to say that, but an attending as well? Wow.
“Wow,” Cassie’s voice also makes you jump as she takes the spot next to you. “You’ve been going at this for how long now?”
“I don’t know.” You swallow, shaking your head. She smells good. It’s not anything in particular, but she just has a certain scent to her. Maybe it’s the laundry soap she uses. You’re too nervous to tell her that, so instead, you groan so you don’t have to look at her anymore because you physically can’t. “Baran’s been terrorizing me all day.”
Cassie laughed softly. “Terrorizing?” and that laugh is like music to your ears.
“She keeps appearing out of nowhere to make sure I’m working.”
“Well… are you working?”
“I mean…I- yeah.” You sigh, your eyes scanning over the words you’ve been typing over and over and over again. Name of the patient, Gender of the patient, Pronouns of the patient. You’ve filled in the same boxes at least fifty times today, and you have about three more until you’re taking up a stall in the bathroom and bawling your eyes out.
“I thought you were charting.”
“Jesus!” Your hand flies over your heart at the sudden now two familiar voices. Dr. Al-Hashimi is standing behind you, looking over your shoulder, her eyes moving over every line of your report. “Do you do that on purpose?” you question.
“Yes.”
“I am. I-I’m charting. I’m just…I just needed a break, and then Dr. McKay needed something-”
“No, I didn’t.” She leans back in the chair, not helping you out one bit as she crosses her arms over that damn zip-up hoodie she always seems to be wearing. Baran was relentless. Fucking relentless. Didn’t she have anything better to do? Like, go track down another resident and get on their ass about their charting? Why YOU specifically, you’ll never understand.
And now Baran was doing that thing where she scans her eyes all over you, like some sort of robot. It always made you shift on your feet, trying to avoid her eye contact, but wherever your eyes went, hers followed.
And now, she’s tilting her head purposefully to force her graze against yours. And then she’s looking at the clock on the nearby wall.
“A break, hm?”
“Yes. Y-yeah. A break to…think about my patients, of course.”
Baran’s eyes narrowed. “Mmm.” She slowly pulled her head back, a playful smile on her lips.
Dr. McKay isn’t helping at all. She’s just sitting there, watching the whole interaction, chin in her palm, eyes jumping from one to the other as you two take turns talking. You inhaled a shaky breath and tightened your jaw.
“Come on, Dr. Al-Hashimi, I’ve been doing this all day.” You tried to reason with her, begging her just to let you rest your head for a second. You would do charting all night if she asked you two, but you just needed a second. You dropped your head dramatically onto the desk. “Can’t I just have a break for one second?” you groaned into your arms. “Please?”
The night crew was already here. Robby had been chatting with Abbot since he arrived, and Shen was drinking another Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and had thankfully bought you one, which you had completely forgotten about until just now.
In all honesty, you know you shouldn’t have snapped like that, but it’s gotten to a point where, between dealing with difficult patients, her, and doing endless charting all day, you’re completely wound up. Your eyes feel so tired that you can’t keep your eyelids open anymore.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then you looked up. And it was a big mistake. Because both Cassie and Baran were staring at you. It hit you that this is your worst nightmare. You, Cassie, and Baran. Both of them staring at you, and you staring back, helpless.
Now, honestly, you would’ve pictured it differently, probably in one of their beds, but this is good enough. However, the anxiety begins to creep in, the nerves. You feel your body begin to sweat, and you try to keep at least one person’s eye contact. Your hands fiddle with the hem of your scrubs, and you feel your mouth go dry.
“Fine,” she said, “Finish up and go home.”
Your eyes, once downcast, now look up at her. “Seriously?”
She grants you a smile. “Yes.”
“Like seriously, seriously?”
“Yes.”
You almost feel like dropping to the floor and kissing the ground at her feet. “Thank you, Dr. Al-Hashimi.”
“You’re welcome.” She then walks away, disappearing again, but you know she won’t be out of sight for too long. Your fingers start typing on the keys, and you have a newfound motivation to complete, or maybe it’s finally the caffeine kicking in from your watered-down latte.
By the time you were finally finished, your body felt held together by caffeine and the pure spite to just get home and prove to yourself that you can handle it. However, and unfortunately for you, your night goes from bad to worse.
You stretched your aching shoulders and checked your phone while walking toward the staff exit. The person who was supposed to drive you home had texted fifteen minutes earlier.
Car trouble. Can’t make it. Sorry :(.
You had to hold back a scream, clamping your teeth down on your knuckles as you stared at the message in somewhat disbelief.
“Everything okay?” the voice came beside you, and it had you turning. Cassie stood nearby, pulling on her jacket while Baran adjusted the strap of her bag beside her. Wow. Even after a twelve-hour shift, they still somehow looked amazing. You, on the other hand, were probably worse for wear.
You were getting nervous again. They both were staring at you, eyes trailing over you completely. Come on. Put on your big girl pants. You sighed, holding the phone up. “My ride bailed.”
Cassie frowned immediately. “Seriously?”
“Apparently, their car died.”
Baran glanced toward the darkness and made a somewhat displeased hissing sound. “It’s late.”
“I know.” You rubbed your face tiredly. “I’ll just call an Uber or something. Or walk home at this point.”
Because you really wouldn’t mind it. You’ve done it before plenty of times after plenty of late-night shifts. You had felt safe every time, so honestly, what difference is this one going to make? It would probably be faster to do it as well, as you wouldn’t have to scroll to the Uber app on your phone, click it, place a ride, pick a good driver, wait for them, and then have an awkward conversation the whole way to your apartment.
“We can take you home,” the sentence breaches your tired thoughts, and you’re looking up from your screen.
“What?” is the best answer you can come up with in the moment. Surely you’re dead right? And this is heaven? You don’t know what you did in your short, however many years of life to deserve a scenario like this, but you sure are grateful. Now you’re sure that something is amiss, but you want to be sure, and decide to play it hard.
“It’s not a problem,” Cassie said easily. “We’re heading that direction anyway.”
We’re?
You looked immediately at Baran for confirmation. “Don’t you both live in the opposite direction?” She gave a small nod. “That’s not necessary,” you said weakly. “I really can just walk, I promise. I really don’t live that far.”
“Come on. It’s cold out, and it seems like it’s going to rain.” Baran comments, looking up towards the cloudless sky. She was obviously making up some excuse to get you into the vehicle without both of them outright saying that you need to come along.
You look down at your things. Your duffel bag in one hand and your purse in the other. You have a brown paper bag of leftover food as well, and it all seems like a hassle to drag back to your apartment.
“Please. I really don’t like the idea of one of my residents walking alone in the dark like this.” Baran says, and now it seems like she’s begging.
And who are you to resist her? Resist them?
You wipe the smile from your face before looking back up at the two of them. “Okay. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not, c’mon.” Cassie finally speaks, holding out her hand. “I’ll get your bags.”
“Oh, I can carry-”
“Give me your bags.” She insists, and so you do, handing them out to her and feeling totally guilty for it, but also….kind of good? Taken care of almost. Why is that? You shrug it off as she holds the straps and all three of you begin to walk to the employee parking area.
One of them clicks the keys, and the taillights of the car blink, alerting you to the car’s position.
“Front or back?” Baran asks, grabbing the keys from Cassie.
“Oh, um, back? If that’s okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. That’s why I asked.” Baran’s voice is sickly sweet, and it has your stomach hurting.
Your head feels light as Cassie opens the trunk of the car and places your bags in nicely, and Baran opens the car door for you. You slip inside, and it feels immediately warm. One of them must have a self-starting car. It smells nice too, like perfume and the smell of hand sanitizer that follows doctors and nurses alike like a second skin.
But thankfully, the perfume is more overwhelming. You catch a small air scentsy thing clipped onto one of the vents of the car, and that must be where it’s coming from.
“Nice car. To whoever it belongs to.” You comment, picking the middle seat. You think Baran will take the passenger seat as Cassie is obviously driving, but instead, Baran takes the left seat right next to you in the back.
“Thank you. But it’s both our car.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Both?”
Both of them laugh, but you know, there was nothing funny or joke-related in your query. “Yes, baby, both,” Baran replies, and the pet name makes you shiver in your seat. Oh god, Trinity was right. They are fucking. They are. Holy shit.
You think your day just got one thousand times better, actually, at this revelation. Cassie maneuvers the car out of the parking spot and onto the road, giving you her phone to type in your address, all the while you can feel Baran’s eyes on you. They never leave your face. And while you would say, in other circumstances, that it makes you uncomfortable and feels off-putting, with her, you would kindly ask her to keep staring. She could keep her eyes on your side profile for as long as she wants.
“Comfortable?” Baran asks.
“Yeah. I’m comfortable.” You nod.
The city lights blue outside the window as you grow increasingly aware of Dr. Baran Al-hashimi’s warm body pressed against your side. Her hand rests innocently on your thigh, her thumb brushing soothing circles. You weren’t opposed to the action. Quite the opposite, actually.
Over the past few months, Baran has made herself a permanent person in the ER at the PTMC, and you’ve watched her slowly sneak in physical touches in conversations. Not necessarily with you, but during conversations. Like touching arms, shoulders, hugging, things like that.
All of this is happening while Cassie’s focused gaze never leaves the road, her jaw clenched possessively.
You swallow harshly at Baran, rubbing innocent circles on your thigh, and you make eye contact with Cassie every so often through the rearview mirror. Cassie’s eyes flicker to yours in the mirror, her gaze piercing and protective. She notices the way you swallow and the way your eyes dart between her and Baran.
“Behave,” Cassie says.
She’s certainly not taking to you, right? You’re just sitting there.
“I am behaving,” Baran speaks up. She smiles secretly at Cassie’s possessive expression reflected in the mirror. She knows Cassie’s watching every interaction, every touch. She deliberately lets her hand move even higher up your leg.
“This okay?” She asks under her breath, and all you can think to do is nod. You make eye contact with Cassie once again in the mirror, or at least you think you do, but she silently nods, and soon you can feel Baran’s lips on the side of your neck.
It catches you by surprise and makes you gasp, before you swallow the noise and bite your bottom lip. You can hear the car slow down a bit, and Cassie takes a turn you do not recognize.
“We’re taking the long way,” she says, voice low and commanding.
Her words go in one ear and out the other. You feel like you’re on cloud nine right now, your brain feels fuzzy, and you can’t form a single thought as Baran’s lips skate across your skin.
Everything in your mind right now is straight gibberish. There are no coherent words, sentences, thoughts, etc. forming. It’s just Baran’s lips on your neck and Cassie’s eye contact from the rearview mirror.
And as she keeps her gaze with yours, you turn your head to capture Baran’s lips. You can see the tick in Cassie’s jaw, her shoulders tensing up. But you can tell it’s not because this is uncomfortable for her. She just hates the fact that she can’t get back there and join Baran.
The two of you pull apart for a moment, a string of spit connecting the two of you before breaking. Baran smiles, both her and your chests heaving. She goes right back at it, though. Eyes on Cassie’s, lips on Baran’s.
“Can I touch you?” She asks, and the question sends a small spark of embarrassment through you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say yes,” she adds.
But you want to. You really, really want to. It’s hard with Cassie peering from the front. However, that also gets you riled up. So you nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you can touch me.”
Baran goes back to sucking and biting your neck, and your head tilts back against the headrest. Her hands slip down your front, underneath the elastic of your scrubs, and begin to pull them down your hips.
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” Baran commands.
You rise in your seat and help her push down your pants and underwear. The seat belt hinders you a little, but it’s not important. Baran is back on you, unbuckling your belt, and you go to stop her, but you realize Cassie has stopped the car somewhere.
“Is…are you…” You try to ask Cassie, but every time you want to ask the actual question, the words won’t roll off your tongue.
“No, sweet girl. I’m just gonna watch for now.” She finishes for you. So instead, you launch yourself onto Baran, and she chuckles a little before her fingers make contact with your cunt. Baran is kissing your cheek, the side of your face pressed into hers, your eyebrows pinch together, eyes looking at Cassie the whole time.
However, you can’t hold eye contact forever, and you go back to pressing your lips on Baran’s. Her hands work on you slowly, keeping a good amount of pressure for you. It’s definitely not enough to make you cum anytime soon, but you know that’s why she’s doing it. Drawing it out for both her pleasure and Cassie’s.
Your hips begin to rock, your clit bumping up against the heel of her palm. But too soon for your liking, her fingers suddenly disappear.
“Lie on your back.” She instructs you now, and you have no reason not to comply. The only sounds in the car are you and Baran moving against the leather and the music leaking from the radio. Cassie is as silent as can be.
Your leg hangs off the seat, foot planted on the floor of the car, while your other leg is slung over Baran’s shoulder. She doesn’t waste any more time before you feel her tongue against your folds.
You let out a soft hum. Your hand runs through Baran’s hair, your other one presses up against the door behind you. Her fingers slowly work their way into you, her tongue pressed up flat against your clit. She only applies pressure every minute or so, again trying to draw out your buildup.
Your hips are rolling against her mouth, her fingers flex inside you perfectly, and her tongue laps against your clit. Her nose is pressed into your hair, and all you can do is stare down at her. Her brown doe eyes are looking up at you, and you can tell she’s smiling; you can tell she’s enjoying this. The bottom eyelids of her eyes are pulled up, and her eyebrows are raised, giving you the notion she’s smiling.
You turn your head to look at Cassie, and she’s watching Baran, smiling to herself. All of it is culminating in your stomach, delicious heat whirling through you. Your chest heaves as it tries to suck in more air than it’s currently capable of doing. Moans and whines are falling from your lips, which draws Cassie’s attention back to you.
She reaches out, her fingers intertwining with yours, and your back arches a little when Baran hooks her fingers inside you, pumping faster, meanwhile her tongue still works at your clit.
“Holy fuck.” You whine, your head falling back uncomfortably against the door, and your eyes close. Baran pulls you towards her a little, aiding in the action for your head to completely drop down against the car seat.
“Feel good?” Cassie asks, her pointer finger absentmindedly tracing up and down a small space on your hand.
You nod, looking towards her. “Mhm.” You whine. Baran hasn’t come up for air even once. Only Cassie has done the talking. But not even that much of it at that.
“Good. Good, sweet girl. You’re gonna cum for Baran, and then you’re gonna cum for me, okay?” She tells you, and you don’t know how she’s going to do that, but you agree anyway.
“Okay. Okay.” You respond, your voice getting higher and choked, so you know you’re about to orgasm. Your legs begin to shake, and one of your hands goes back to Baran’s hair.
“Are you gonna cum?” Cassie asks, her eyebrows seemingly pulled together in concern.
“Yes- shit- yes!” It’s only whimpers and mewls coming from you now. Baran is looking at you again, smiling once more. Her fingers move faster in and out of you, your hips jerking more against her hand. Her tongue works over time, and Cassie just talks you through it.
“Come on, you know you want to.” Cassie prompts. “Baran wants it too.” She cocks her head towards Baran. You’re holding the woman’s hair back so you can see her face a bit more clearly.
“Please?” Baran begs, coming up to suck in a breath of air. You can see a little bit more of her now as the light from the car shines down. The lower half of her face is covered in you. In your arousal.
“Cum for us,” Cassie comments further, and that, combined with Baran’s pleading, sends you over the edge.
You let out a choked whine of both their names, a mix of sorts, before your hips stall completely against Baran’s mouth. Your eyes slam shut, and your mouth is open wide as your hand grips Baran’s hair in a tight fist, earning grunts from the woman below you. You resume your movements, this time circling your hips.
Cassie is still watching, her free hand now somewhere else. Is she….is she touching herself? She doesn’t look away, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she watches you unravel. The pleasure rushes through you, pulling up tight in your stomach and smoothing out over the rest of your body.
You let out a deep exhale as you come down, having to forcefully push Baran’s head away from your cunt. Your hands are shaking, as well as your entire body, as Cassie hops out of the driver’s seat, and Baran wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. The door opens on your side, and it has you picking your head up a bit.
“You okay?” Cassie asks, her face coming into view for you.
“Mhm.” You hum, nodding your head as she smiles down at you. It’s a nice one. A soft one.
“Yeah? You sure?” She cocks an eyebrow.
“Sure.” You solidify.
“Okay, sweet girl. Can you sit up for me?” You do as she asks, with a bit of help from both parties. They still don’t help you with your pants, though, and that’s when you remember what Cassie said earlier.
You need both of them so bad you can’t see straight. That and the fact you’re still sensitive from Baran’s mouth.
“You still up for more?”
“Yes,” You respond instantly. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m up for more. Please.”
Cassie lets out a small laugh. “Okay. Just hold on a second, okay?”
You have no reason to say no, so you just sit there, slightly leaning against Baran’s shoulder as she plants kisses on your forehead. You watch Cassie move back to the driver’s seat, leaning down to tug the seat back as far as it’ll go.
She hauls herself back into the car and shuts the door. Baran helps to take your shoes, pants, and underwear completely off before you try to climb over the console and straddle Cassie’s lap.
Baran stops you, hands to your waist. “Hold on, sweetheart.” Her lips are at your ear. “Let her get ready.” Her hands come up to palm your tits as you watch Cassie lift her hips. She shoves her scrubs down and her boxers in a rushed, messy motion.
You don’t know if she had gotten ready before this, or if she had been wearing it all day, but she’s already got her strap out, by the time Baran finally lets you go and climb across to straddle her. Not wasting any time. She looks as desperate as you feel.
You want Baran with you. You want her to touch you as your knees punch the seat on either side of Cassie’s lap. You want your lips on hers as your cunt drags along the head of her fake cock, and you wonder when you got this wet again because Baran had cleaned you up pretty nicely after she made you orgasm.
Cassie has the same thought. The tip of her cock slides over your folds, and she groans. “Fuck, sweet girl,” she murmurs.
“Please,” you tell her. Your breath fans along her neck. “Cassie. Please. I need-” you think that’s the first time you’ve ever really said one of their names during this whole exchange. You look up towards Baran, who’s somehow now gotten into the passenger seat. You didn’t hear any of the car doors open once, and she certainly didn’t climb between the center console.
No wonder she always somehow sneaks behind you while you’re charting, or when you’re trying to choose what case to pick up from the board (even though you know you’re not supposed to do that).
Cassie’s thumb grazes your clit before she bears down gently, and you gasp.
“Tell me,” she says. She sounds urgent. Rough. She strokes you, gauging your reaction. Baran’s hand is on your back, on your shoulder, your neck, anywhere she can touch. That white-hot pleasure swirls at the pit of your stomach.
“Need to feel you,” you say. “Want to feel you. Both of you.” It tumbles out broken, like you’re begging. But you just want both of them close. You just want them here.
“Fuck,” Cassie groans. She tips her head back. Some of her bangs are plastered on her forehead, her eyes are glassy, wild. She looks a mess already, and she hasn’t even fucked you yet.
Maybe they both needed this more than you did. You don’t say that, though, of course. You don’t say anything, cause soon she’s asking for Baran to help remove your top. All three of you grab at your scrub top to get it over your head, and then at your bra. You rut uselessly in her lap, and Cassie holds you still, one hand on your waist, and the other is moving Baran’s hand to your front.
You’re making a mess in her lap. Leaking onto her thighs, her seat. Your nails scrape her scalp, and she mumbles something against your throat.
“Hold- shit. Hold still,” she says. She sounds desperate: desperate for you to listen, so she can fuck you faster. Maybe it’s your urgency she’s feeding off of. Both of them. Or maybe the whole shift was just as bad for them as it was for you- or worse, if that’s even possible- and Cassie’s not in the mood to issue any orders. “While I do this, Baran’s going to touch you, okay? Help you feel good.”
She drags you down against her lap, and her strap slides through your slick. She gives a shallow thrust up and nudges your swollen clit.
“Need it this bad?” She pants. Her voice is strained. There’s sweat on her brow. The setting, your urgency- it’s fucking with her head. It’s making her head fuzzy, and her stomach pull, and all you can do is watch through hooded eyes as she swallows back a moan.
“Of course she does. In the car, right on the side of the road.” Baran comments. Cassie’s knuckle strokes up your seam, and heat curls your skin. “Filthy girl.” Baran breathes.
“She’s fuck-”
You can’t wait any longer. You’re impatient. You want her right here, right now, closer than close. Both of them.
You sink onto her cock before she can guide you, grinding your hips down into her lap. Her head flies back against the seat, her thighs tensing. Whatever mumbled, half-formed thought was on her tongue gets swallowed up in a moan.
She lets you take the reins. They both do. For a little while, at least. You ride her as best you can in the limited space their car allows. Your head brushes the ceiling, and your knees leave divots in the seat. The glass fogs, and the air goes thick, and the little evergreen car freshener that dangles off their mirror can’t do much to mask the smell of sex.
You can tell she’s not gonna last long. Neither of you. You could tell before you buried yourself on her cock, and you can certainly tell now. Baran’s nails dig into your waist before she lifts her deft fingers down to your clit, and your breath punches somewhere by Cassie’s head.
“It’s- fuck, it’s fine,” you mumble, and it is, it’s fine, you want her to mark you up. You want Baran to make bite marks on your skin, and you don’t fucking care about anything else. “Please, I don’t care, just, please, Cassie, Baran, please-”
Your head rolls back. Her cock pulls inside you, and your hips stutter on her lap. “It’s fine,” you repeat, “please, just fucking- please.”
She hisses through her teeth. Her hands slide to the top of your ass, and she squeezes. You mumble her name, and your body goes slack, folding into hers, content to let her take over if it means you can stay nestled in the crook of her shoulder.
She gets a good grip on your ass as Baran kisses and licks at your shoulders. It’s a deeper, sharper angle than the one you’d managed, bouncing on her lap, and it makes you yelp. You bite down on her shoulder and get a mouthful of flannel.
She likes it. You can tell. She rumbles deep at the back of her throat. “Fuck,” she mumbles. She thrusts up into you and drags you down at the same time, hitting something deep inside you. It’s cramped in here, and your knees ache, and her thrusts are frantic, and Baran is making fast, tight circles on your clit. It’s fucking good. It’s right.
Heat pulls across your skin. Dances low at the base of your stomach. Your hand shoots from her hair and slams against her window, grasping at glass. You’re this fucking close, and then-
Cassie cums. Hard. No warning, no break in the frantic way she’s fucking you. Her cock sits inside you, mid-thrust, and her breath snags in her throat. Her grip goes tight on you, so tight it’s almost painful- and then she slackens. All of her. She slumps back against her seat with her strap still inside you.
“Shit,” she’s mumbling. She blinks, looking as surprised as you. All three of you. “I don’t-”
But you just kissed her. It’s messy. Tongue and teeth and shallow breaths that you swallow with your own. But it shuts her up. Her hands rake up your ribcage, and you clench around her, as Baran continues to rub your clit.
“Fuck,” she says. “Fuck, sweet girl, it’s too much for me, baby.”
You keep going, though, desperate to reach your end. You believe Baran is touching herself, as her other hand is not on you anymore. But you can’t look, you don’t have the energy to. All you can do right now is move your hips and let Baran touch your clit and moan their names to the car’s roof.
You know you’re going to cum, you can feel it again.
“Come on, baby. Give it to us.” Baran urges you. “I’ll cum with you, yeah?”
You nod, working extra as Cassie claws desperately at your hips to hold on. Her legs are shaking beneath you, and all you can do is continue your torment for your own pleasure. Jesus Christ, it feels so good. Too good.
It all happens once. You hear Baran’s moan and another grunt from Cassie as they both cum, Baran for the first time this night and Cassie the second. And then you’re following after them. You cum, letting out a tired, choked mewl mixed with a whimper as you crash forward into Cassie. Your head drops to her neck as your hips continue to move.
Baran has to stop you so you don’t overstimulate yourself. But they both feel just too good.
“Stop, baby.” They both sort of say to you, and you’re whining in protest, but you do. Cassie is sliding herself out of you, and you hiss at the loss before Baran takes you into her arms in the passenger seat.
“You did so well,” Baran tells you. “So good for us.”
“Thank you.” You half-heartedly mumble. Your chest is heaving, but you couldn’t care less as Baran’s lips go to your hair.
All you can do is sit there, completely naked, in Baran’s lap as Cassie cleans herself and the seat before they’re helping to clean you too, and shuffle your pants back on. Baran cleans herself too before joining you once again in the back seat.
You finally lean yourself fully against her, head on her shoulder as she buckles you in. You don’t want to move from this spot for the rest of your life. As long as you have both of them in any context that might be.
Cassie turns the car back on and pulls out of wherever the three of you are. She turns the GPS back on and types your address in again, getting back on to the road as Baran simply holds you close to her the whole way to your apartment.
using violence to liberate people from sweatshops, unsafe mines, and grinding poverty isn't the same as using violence to impose those things on people. the idea that violence is morally repugnant regardless of context is a belief that every oppressor throughout history would love for the oppressed to hold
How very depressing that Neil Gaiman had trended not even a tiny bit for demonstrating what a fucking horrific person he is.
As a reminder, he's suing Caroline Wallner, one of his accusers, for breaking her NDA. Not for libel. He's saying she shouldn't have told anyone about it, not that she lied.
The author says Wallner broke her NDA by sharing her story with the media, including with New York Magazine.
He doesn't need the money. He's risking the Streisand effect. He is punishing Caroline, he's trying to intimidate other victims who have signed NDAs to scare them into continued silence.
He is no friend to women, to the LGBTQIA+ community, to anyone quite frankly unless he thinks they are of value to him.
Share the story. Put it on Facebook and bluesky and whatever else you're on. Make it clear what a horrifying person he is. Tell your friends. He's paying Edendale a fortune to try and cover this up. Make this hard for him. Make it cost him money.
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