✦A potions accident had turned them into a woman for the next 24 hours.
Azul Ashengrotto
The twins had warned you with matching mischievous grins, a potions accident had turned Azul into a woman for the next 24 hours. You wasted no time heading straight to his room.
“Azul, please let me in!” you called gently through the door.
“I look ridiculous!” came his voice from the other side, still unmistakably his, but lighter and softer. “You’re just going to laugh at me. I won’t be leaving this room until the potion wears off.”
“Azul, I would never make fun of you. Please?”
After several long minutes of gentle coaxing, the door finally cracked open.
Your brain short circuited.
Azul stood there, arms crossed defensively. Long, silky hair framed a stunning face, full lips, rosy cheeks, long lashes framing those familiar sharp eyes. He looked beautiful.
Lord have mercy.
“…See? I look like a joke!” he muttered, cheeks already turning pink.
You stepped inside, closed the door, and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re dumb if you think that. You look just as breathtaking as you always do. But with a feminine touch.”
Azul’s entire face flushed crimson. The sight of him blushing so prettily as a girl was dangerously adorable. “S-Stop saying such things…” he stammered, trying to look away, but you held his cheeks firmly.
You couldn’t help yourself. You started kissing him, soft little pecks all over his forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally his lips. Each kiss made him more flustered, his new feminine voice letting out tiny embarrassed sounds that were unfairly cute.
“You’re going to kill me…” he whispered, hiding his burning face against your shoulder. Azul made a mortified little noise but didn’t pull away.
Jade Leech
Jade seemed remarkably unbothered by the transformation. You found him in his room, standing in front of the mirror and admiring his new form. The potion had given him long, flowing hair and a tall, elegant model like figure. He still moved with that same graceful, slightly dangerous for your poor heart.
You were sitting on his bed, staring. Jade caught your gaze in the mirror reflection and turned around with a knowing smile. “Do you find this form attractive?” he asked, voice still smooth but noticeably higher.
You nodded, a faint blush creeping up your neck. “Of course I do. You’re my boyfriend… or girlfriend right now? It’s a little confusing, but yes. Very attractive.”
Jade grin widened as he walked closer. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look directly at him. Your blush deepened. “You’re enjoying this accident quite a bit more than expected.” he teased, voice low and playful.
Your brain went into full gay panic.
“You’re pretty, okay?! It’s not my fault!”
Jade chuckled softly and leaned in, pressing a light, teasing kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling back just as quickly.
“This little accident has taken a rather interesting turn I must say.” he murmured, eyes glittering with mischief. “I believe I’m going to enjoy seeing how you react to me like this.”
You were absolutely cooked.
Floyd Leech
Floyd was a chaotic mix of annoyed and intrigued by his new body. He kept poking at his own chest and complaining about the “extra weight” while also admiring his hips in the mirror.
You were trying to help him adjust his uniform when he suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He looked down at you with that signature sharp grin, now on a strikingly pretty face.
“You like girls too, right~?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
You nodded, heart racing. “Yes…?”
His smile stretched wide. “Then it’s your lucky day, Shrimpy.”
You sighed “Floyd, don’t mess around…”
He whined, and the sound coming from his new girly voice was weirdly hot. “Come on~ We gotta make the most of it while it lasts!”
Before you could protest further, he cupped the back of your neck, and kissed you hard. One hand stayed on your waist while the other tangled in your hair, pulling you flush against his new curves.
When he finally pulled back, he was ready to tease you more, until he noticed your bright red face and the nosebleed dripping down.
“Eh~? Shrimpy’s nose is bleeding!” He laughed loudly, delighted. “You’re so cute when you get overwhelmed. This is gonna be so much fun~”
He didn’t let you go, still grinning like a shark who’d found new prey.
John Logan has spent months painfully attracted to the gorgeous girl constantly hanging around Hannah and Allie — flirting with women so openly that he convinced himself she could never want him back. Which means every heated glance, every teasing smile, and every dirty comment aimed his way had to be his imagination… right?
Apparently not.
Because after a brutal hockey loss and one chaotic Briar party, Logan finally learns two important things:
1. she’s been flirting with him this entire time.
2. bisexuality exists.
warnings : alcohol consumption, party setting, heavy flirting, sexual tension, suggestive content, kissing, implied sexual content, bisexual female protagonist, jealousy, misunderstandings, cocky john logan, mutual obsession, college romance, hockey romance, off campus universe, reader insert, no use of y/n.
He noticed her long before he ever spoke to her.
That was the problem.
John Logan had spent months pretending he wasn’t completely distracted by the gorgeous girl constantly orbiting the Briar hockey crowd like she belonged there.
Because she did.
She sat with Hannah Wells and Allie Hayes at games, legs crossed in tiny skirts that made half the arena stare openly. She flirted shamelessly with girls at parties. Danced with them. Kissed cheeks. Whispered things into their ears that made them laugh and blush.
And Logan—
Logan was obsessed with her.
Which would’ve been bad enough on its own.
But from the beginning, he’d assumed she liked women exclusively.
So he did what he always did with impossible situations:
Buried it.
Deep.
Didn’t matter that every time she walked into a room, his brain short-circuited.
Didn’t matter that she looked at him too long sometimes.
Didn’t matter that she always smirked when she caught him staring.
She wasn’t interested in him.
End of story.
—
The hockey team lost badly Friday night.
Which meant the party afterward was louder, messier, and more alcohol-fueled than usual.
Logan leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand while Garrett argued with Dean across the room about a missed pass during third period.
Normally Logan would’ve joined in.
Tonight he barely heard them.
Because she had just walked in.
And Jesus Christ.
Black leather skirt.
Tiny silver top.
Glossy lips curved around a smile while Hannah whispered something in her ear.
Logan’s jaw tightened instantly.
“She’s looking over here again,” Garrett Graham said casually beside him.
Logan nearly choked on his drink.
“She is not.”
Garrett snorted.
“Logan, that girl’s been eye-fucking you for months.”
Impossible.
Because thirty seconds later she leaned down toward Allie, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear while laughing softly.
See?
Definitely not into him.
Logan took another long drink.
Bad idea.
Because the second he lowered the cup, she was walking directly toward him.
Not near him.
Toward him.
His entire body went alert.
“Well, well,” she said smoothly once she reached him. “Briar’s favorite hockey player finally looks miserable enough for me to approach.”
Logan blinked at her.
Up close she was even worse.
Pretty wasn’t enough for girls like her.
She was dangerous.
“You picking on me now?” he asked carefully.
“Maybe.” Her eyes dragged slowly over him. “You look hot when you’re irritated, baby.”
Baby.
Logan forgot how to breathe for a second.
Behind her, Hannah noticed what was happening and immediately started grinning into her drink.
“You drunk?” Logan asked suspiciously.
“Nope.”
“Then why are you flirting with me?”
She stared at him for two whole seconds.
Then burst out laughing.
Not mean laughter.
Real laughter.
Bright and shocked and completely uncontrollable.
Logan frowned immediately.
“What?”
“Oh my God,” she wheezed, grabbing his arm dramatically. “You seriously don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“You thought I was gay.”
The way she said it made him realize instantly.
And judging by the tears forming in her eyes from laughing, she realized too.
Logan felt genuine horror settle into his chest.
“Well…” he muttered defensively. “You’re always with girls.”
“And?”
“And you flirt with them constantly.”
“I flirt with everyone constantly.”
“That is not helping your case.”
She laughed even harder.
Then leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“You know bisexuality exists, right, pretty boy?”
Pretty boy.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Logan closed his eyes briefly.
“I’m actually the dumbest man alive.”
“You kinda are,” she teased. “It’s adorable.”
He groaned into his beer.
She was still smiling when he looked back at her.
Soft now.
Interested.
And suddenly Logan realized something horrifying:
She had been flirting with him this entire time.
He just hadn’t noticed.
“You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, “all those looks weren’t accidental?”
She looked genuinely offended.
“Logan. I practically undressed you with my eyes during three home games.”
Garrett barked out a laugh somewhere nearby.
“Holy shit,” Logan muttered.
“Yeah.” Her smirk returned. “You’re not exactly subtle either, sweetheart.”
Something shifted then.
The embarrassment faded.
And confidence—the familiar Logan confidence—started slipping back into place.
His eyes dropped deliberately to her mouth.
“You got any idea what you’ve been doing to me all semester?”
Her expression flickered slightly.
“There he is.”
Logan stepped closer.
Close enough to smell her perfume.
Close enough to notice the way her breathing changed.
“You call everybody pretty boy?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
“Baby?”
“Nope.”
“Sweetheart?”
“Only the hockey players I wanna kiss.”
That hit him straight in the chest.
Logan smiled slowly.
Dangerously.
“Well,” he murmured, “good thing I’m a hockey player then.”
Her lips parted slightly.
Finally.
A reaction.
For the first time all night, she looked affected.
And Logan loved it instantly.
His hand brushed lightly against her waist.
“You know,” he said softly, “I spent months trying not to want you.”
“Months?” she teased. “That’s kinda pathetic, handsome.”
“You were busy making out with girls.”
“And now?”
Logan’s eyes darkened.
“Now I’m realizing I suffered for no reason.”
She laughed again, quieter this time.
Then leaned close enough for her lips to brush his ear.
“Want me to show you how much I like men too?”
Every coherent thought left his body.
Immediately.
When she pulled back, she looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Logan stared at her for one dangerous second before grabbing her hand.
“Upstairs,” he said.
She grinned brilliantly.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
—
The second the bedroom door shut, they both started laughing.
Not because it wasn’t hot.
God, it was.
But because Logan still looked personally victimized by his own stupidity.
“I cannot believe,” he said while shaking his head, “that I watched you flirt with me for months and thought you were just being friendly.”
“Friendly?” she repeated incredulously. “Logan, I told you your thighs looked sinful in gray sweatpants.”
“In my defense, I thought maybe girls just complimented each other like that.”
She collapsed against the door laughing again.
“You are unbelievably pretty and unbelievably stupid.”
“Yeah?” Logan murmured, stepping closer. “Still wanna kiss me though.”
Her smile softened slightly.
“Very much.”
That ended the conversation.
His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him while her arms wrapped around his neck instantly.
And unlike the teasing and tension downstairs, the kiss felt almost dizzying.
Because they’d both wanted this for way too long.
She tasted like vodka and lip gloss and trouble.
Logan kissed her harder immediately.
Her laugh melted into a soft sound against his mouth as he backed her toward the bed.
“Careful,” she whispered teasingly between kisses. “You seem a little obsessed with me, hockey boy.”
“I am obsessed with you,” Logan admitted shamelessly.
That made her blink.
Then grin.
“Well,” she murmured while tugging him back down to her mouth, “good thing I’m obsessed with you too.”
And somewhere between the heated kisses, teasing laughter, wandering hands, and Logan groaning in humiliation every time she reminded him she’d been flirting all semester—
They both realized this definitely wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.
Hello, lovely and hot human beings!
I hope you’re all doing well. I missed my John Logan era… and also my bisexuality, so naturally I decided to mix both together. I hope you don’t mind — love and heat are for everyone around here.
Enjoy this little baby, and don’t hesitate to comment what you’d like to see next! And if you liked it, feel free to leave a like, it truly means a lot to me.
My spicier stories are categorized as mature content, so if you want to read them, make sure your settings allow mature texts.
tags: smut, cisfem!reader, wlw, p in v, simultaneous orgasms, fingering, face sitting, oral, uhh lots of fluids comingling, reader gets to be their pillow princess, fluffy pillow talk
a/n: you & leon are friends with benefits but I didn’t feel like writing a whole setup for it. but keep that in mind so the intro dialogue is less cringe haha. you could infer the beginnings of a throuple at the end (or not, up to you) but he’s down bad for you both
You never came out to Leon, per se. He put the pieces together after a comment you made in a casual conversation.
“Wait, you like women too?”
You shrugged like it was common knowledge. “Yeah, I do.”
“Huh…”
You watched him through narrowed eyes as he pondered it, nodding his head and looking up at nothing like he’d found the last piece of a puzzle and could now see the full picture of you clearly.
You scoffed light-heartedly. “What?”
“Nothing, just uh… if you don’t mind me asking, um…”
You and Leon were well past anything being TMI between you, and knowing him, whatever he said next was sure to be so dumb it’d be entertaining. Your voice was coated in amusement as you urged him on.
“Go ahead.”
He cleared his throat before continuing.
“Have you ever been with a guy and girl like… at the same time?”
You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. “Oh my god, you are such a guy.”
“No, no, I mean— well yeah, but just— I might know someone, if you wanted to.”
You paused and looked at him for a beat. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. Something in you sparked like flint catching against steel.
“Is she hot?”
That was the conversation that signed your death warrant, in retrospect. Because right now, you were sure you were in heaven.
“That’s it, baby, suck my cock.”
“She’s so sensitive, look at how she twitches.”
“Told you.”
“She’s taking us like such a good girl.”
Your sweat clung to the bedsheets below you from the sheer effort it took not to cum as they talked as if you weren’t there. But between Leon’s cock stuffing your mouth full and Ada’s lips fixed to your clit, you’d been reduced to muffled moans.
And Leon, ever the selfless lover, knew he wasn’t the star of the show here. He certainly didn’t mind watching you and her make out naked, wetting your fingers between the other’s legs while he sat back all but forgotten. And every position he suggested kept you and her in mind.
“Let her sit on your face while I fuck you, yeah? I know you’re dying to taste her.”
You gripped the soft flesh of Ada’s thighs to hold on as Leon rearranged your guts into the shape of him, pulling her further and firmly down to delve your tongue as deep as it’d go. She tasted like paradise found, the whole room was heady with pheromones, your senses tingled from the inside out as they each toyed with one of your breasts. Your face was covered in a coat of her sweet gloss as you lapped and needily suckled every square inch of the prettiest pussy you’d ever seen, your legs quivering around Leon’s waist as he held them open by the backs of your knees.
You thought you heard them kiss, but when Ada raised herself off of you momentarily, you could see her fingers in his wanton mouth. You whined as you sucked in a lungful of air, and then she sat back down again.
“Good boy, get them nice and wet. Does she feel good?”
“Mmhmm,” Leon moaned around her digits. You heard a wet pop and he shuddered before slurring. “God, s’alway so damn tight.”
Ada leaned forward and fixed her spit-slick fingers to your clit. You seized and cried helplessly into her cunt, pulling her hips to encourage her to grind on the flat of your tongue as Leon picked up speed.
Every moan you earned from Ada felt like you’d grabbed ahold of starlight itself, and every groan from Leon felt like being bathed in the warmth of the sun. Your pleasure was as constant as the plap plap of skin on skin, as continuous as Ada’s fingertips circling your wet clit dexterously.
And fuck, the way they kept talking, how Ada’s voice dripped like honey and Leon’s rumbled like broken thunder—
“That’s it, sweetheart, suck my clit— ahh— there, right there.”
“Come on, make her cum all over your pretty face. Then we’ll make you next, yeah?”
“Mm, keep— keep going, baby, earn it.”
“Shit, fuck— she must be close, gripping me like a goddamn vice.”
“Oh, oh, yes—!”
Her fingers faltered against your clit and her thighs clamped down against your face as she tumbled off the ledge, cumming with a string of breathless moans of your name. You lapped it up desperately as her slippery, sweet juices gushed into your thirsty mouth, the taste alone making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.
She hissed and hovered over you as your needy tongue became too much, and you lifted your head to follow her with a pointed lick, not wanting to leave behind a single drop that could be taken by you instead. She laughed drunkenly at you as she teased herself up and down, allowing you just one more lap up her center each time, just enough to make you dizzy.
Her fingers left your clit, but you didn’t have time to protest before more calloused ones replaced them. A shattered moan escaped you and Ada dismounted while you were preoccupied with the feeling to lay next to you on her side. You wrapped an arm around her to thread your fingers in her hair, careful not to pull as your pleasure began to mount.
She ran her fingers soothingly up and down your stomach, humming as she watched you get fucked: the way your brows curled up acutely, your jaw dropping in a silent scream, the rise and fall of your chest as you fought for heavy breaths. She couldn’t help but to take your ebbing breast by a squeeze of your hardened nipple.
It felt like you’d been launched from the bed and into heaven faster than light speed.
You cried out as you came undone with brutal force, clenching around Leon’s cock with every wave of tremors that rushed through you, his fingers on your clit becoming sharp and blindingly bright. They let out oh’s and expletives in revelrous awe, like they were mere witnesses to something holy and not the direct cause.
And just as they’d talked you up to it, they talked you back down too—
“There you are, give it to him.”
“Atta girl, cum on my cock.”
“So pretty when you let go for us.”
You floated back down to earth like a feather with each syllable, and Leon decelerated to a slow grind to let you get a grip. Then to each of your surprises, he shuddered and pulled out.
Ada cocked an eyebrow at him. "You could’ve cum.”
“I know,” he panted, “but I’m not done. C’mon, get on her.”
Ada swung a leg over and she was suddenly straddled above you, settling down until her breasts were flush with yours, biting her smiling lips as she nestled your pelvic bones flush together.
“We’ve had our fun, let’s let him have some now, yeah?”
She hooked her feet under your thighs to keep them parted, and you felt the bed dip as Leon knelt between them. You gasped as his fingers slowly dragged up and down both of your slits, commingling your silky fluids.
“Fuck, you two are so hot.”
And the way Ada’s face contorted as he pushed himself inside her? That was the most heavenly sight by far. You even refrained from kissing her so you wouldn’t interrupt it.
As Leon settled into her, you rested one hand on the dip of her lower back and the other on her ass. Once he started thrusting, she kissed you herself.
Leon covered your hand on her ass with his to spread her open, grunting in marvel at the sigh. Behind your eyelids, you imagined the image of what was happening and that alone was enough to make you moan into her kiss. It deepened as you did, your soft tongues melting together in a sultry sort of dance as you rocked together with the smooth force of Leon’s thrusts.
You’d be more than happy if that’s all that continued to happen, but Leon had other plans in mind. Your eyes parted open as the bed went still and you felt his tip notch into your opening.
Ada cooed praises into your ear as your mind became blown with how dirty it was. He slipped inside so easily, his cock undoubtedly dripping with her cum, sinking his full length into your own sopping center with ease.
He rocked in and out of you slowly, deliberately, letting you feel each thrust and the friction of your own velvet walls as they sucked him in. With Ada flush on top of you, you were sure she must feel him bulging against your stomach each time he bottomed out.
He pulled out again. You wondered where he went. A melodic moan from Ada’s throat was all you needed to know he’d entered her again.
You gasped as he pushed back into you.
Then her.
Then you.
Then her.
Then you again.
It was downright pornographic, the way he alternated between you, his voice going up in pitch each time. He too was in heaven.
It felt like such a perfect tease each time you were filled only to be left empty, then stuffed full all over again, over and over and over. Ada clung to you like a dirty angel, her skin dampening with sweat as she nestled her face into your neck, panting against your pulse point. You trembled more and more each time Leon entered, and you bit your lip as a white hot coil twisted in your stomach.
You could hardly articulate the feeling:
“Leon, Leon, please, oh fuck—“
He knew the answer anyways:
“I know, I know, I’m close too, just—“
The next time he plunged into your pulsing walls, he hammered in with a lot more purpose.
Ada reached back, fanning her hand at him mindlessly. She couldn’t put a sentence together either, but Leon knew what she meant.
He fixed two fingers inside of her and curled them up and down. He braced his other hand on your upper thigh and strummed his thumb against your clit.
You all devolved into strings of words with no discernible meaning.
“Oh, there, ahh—ahh—“
“Fuck, I’m—oh my god—“
“Jesus fucking— oh, please—“
Then you all shattered as one being.
Leon pulled out with a sharp withdrawal, hands unwilling to leave you and Ada as he kept coaxing you both through it.
Leon kept his hands fixed to you and Ada both, continuing to coax you through it as he pulled out with urgency. He groaned with each convulsion, his cock jumping with each rope of cum; and whether he intended it or not, with the angle of his hips—
You felt the warmth of each rope as it landed on you and as it dripped from Ada’s cunt to yours.
You all came down the earth with lightheaded heaves. Leon urged his vision to stop swimming as he burned the sight into memory with each heavy blink: the two loves of his life tangled up in each other, each one’s pussy painted with his cum.
He stared at it every second until Ada eventually rolled off of you, and he stared a little longer at you lying together. Two angels blessing his bedsheets and glowing with sweat and sex, your mussed-up hair falling like halos against his pillows. Dirty in a way that made him aware of the beats his heart skipped, beautiful in a way that made it impossible to stare longer instead of joining.
He crawled up right beside you and splayed an arm over your torso, his fingers idly rubbing Ada’s side where they met. You curled an arm under him to weave your hand into the soft hair on the nape of his neck.
“We need a towel,” Ada cooed.
Leon chuckled once. “Guess you don’t know where they are, huh?”
He flicked her side playfully, and she giggled and batted it away before letting him go back to the mindless circles he drew on her ribcage. You gave them each a curious look at whatever hid in the subtext. You knew it’d been a long while since they slept together, but it sounded like they missed it.
Fuck, you hope they did. Then maybe this could happen again.
“I’ll just change the sheets,” Leon thought out loud, and then he asked her, “are you staying?”
She hummed as she pretended to think. You felt her turn to look at you, and you met her gaze with hopeful eyes.
“Sure...”
You smiled. She kissed your cheek.
“...If you make us breakfast in the morning.”
Both of you looked at Leon expectantly. His eyes flicked between you and her before he nuzzled back into you, resigned.
“Alright, fine.”
You and Ada giggled and made his grocery list for him.
“Are you a savory or sweet breakfast person?” “Depends on the day.” “Why not get stuff for both?” “Okay, like toast? That’s versatile." “Ooh what about french toast?” “Leon, do you know how to make french toast?”
He nuzzled further into you to hide the smile on his face as he grumbled into your skin.
“Women…”
a/n: I simply couldn’t resist the last line I’m not sorry
˚⁎⁺˳ . ⊹ you're in vancouver filming the new james bond movie when you secretly ditch the media ban to watch shane hollander and the metros play the vancouver canucks. when you're caught by the press, you need to come up with an excuse for your presence — one that shane is able to provide.
˚⁎⁺˳ . ⊹ male!reader, shane x reader. reader is an actor!
˚⁎⁺˳ . ⊹ part one!
“And we actually have a famous face in the stadium tonight, Isaac…” The announcer calls over the speaker, interrupting the sweeping shots of the audience that had been playing on the main stadium screens during the intermission. You wince, pulling your baseball cap further down over your face and slouching down in your seat. Surely not…
Ah, fuck.
A quick glance up at the jumbotron reveals an awkward angle of your side-profile, and you groan inwardly before straightening and pushing up your cap, shooting the camera what your agent, Laurie, affectionately calls your “fuck boy” grin.
Immediately, a chorus of cheers swells in the stands.
“James Bond is in the house! Unlike our boys on the ice, no matter how hard they try, Y/n L/n is the only one here tonight with a license to kill.”
You try not to let your grin slip at the bad joke. A headache is quickly forming at the corners of your vision, and people around you are already swiveling in their chairs to gaze at you, slack-jawed. You mime a fist bump at a kid who climbed fully around in their seat three rows ahead.
Mercifully, the camera cuts away after a few more beats, and you allow yourself to relax back into your seat. You wince, already imagining the conspiracy theories that were no doubt about to hit Reddit in a couple of minutes.
You were in Vancouver to film the next Bond movie; the snowy streets would dupe as Moscow, for about a million less in filming, transport, and crew fees — but the sequence of events was largely supposed to remain secret from the series’ rabid fan base. But this was Hollander’s last game of the season outside of Montreal, and you’d begged to catch it… Jesus. Sam was never going to let you live this down. You shoot a sheepish text to him.
got caught at that hockey game i went to. maybe they won’t draw any conclusions
Sam texted back immediately.
I am going to lock you in your trailer until I have finished directing this movie.
i am the main guy
Irrelevant
yeah actually i think rose could do this without me she’s so badass
By the time the game wraps up, the Metros pulling ahead with two absolutely beautiful goals from Hollander, your headache has manifested in full force.
You’re able to get out of your seat and halfway out of the stadium with minimal interaction before you run into the press.
It’s a crowd of sports reporters swarming a player, attention entirely focused on the athlete. You flip the hood of your Metros hoodie up, covering your face in shadow, and edge past the crowd.
The athlete mutters something, and you reflexively flick your eyes up — only to lock gazes with Hollander, of all people, whose freckles and sweat-damp hair are thrown into harsh contrast by the lights of the cameras. A grin tugs at the corner of your mouth and you nod at him once. His sentence trails off.
A reporter whirls around and shouts in surprise. You can’t bring yourself to be upset about being caught; most of your focus is snagged on the pretty smattering of freckles across Hollander’s nose.
“Y/n!” She calls, and the crowd instantly whips toward you. You’re guided by insistent hands to Hollander’s side, who’s shifting nervously on his feet. You turn to him and offer your hand, which he clasps in a warm, calloused grip. The flash of bulbs immediately consumes the space.
“Nice to meet you, dude.” You whisper, using your joined hands to tug him forward until you can lean down to speak directly into his ear. “You played really well.”
“Uh, I — thank you.” Hollander stutters back. God, he’s fucking adorable. An idea hits, suddenly.
“Play along?” You murmur, prepared to take the hit if he shook his head. Hollander only quirks an eyebrow and nods, though, so you withdraw and wink at him playfully.
“Y/n! What are you doing in Vancouver? Does this have anything to do with the next James Bond movie?”
“Tricky. I’ve been sworn to secrecy by my media director, so I can’t speak directly on that, but I’m actually here to see my buddy Shane play.”
A blush has risen high on Hollander’s cheeks. When the microphones pivot back to him, though, his voice is steady. “Uh, yeah. I invited him out to catch a game.”
The hubbub intensifies, and you sling an arm around Hollander’s shoulders. He melts almost unconsciously against your side, then seems to remember where he is, and straightens suddenly. You squeeze his shoulder, then guide him through the crowd of reporters.
“I think we’re gonna call it here, guys. Have a good night!”
//
The Canadian air is a jarring difference to the stifled heat of the press corridor. You shiver, even decked out in both a hoodie and a leather jacket, and Hollander laughs.
“I thought you were from Boston.”
You laugh. “And I’m freezing there too.”
You fall into a comfortable silence navigating through the parking lot; you’d both parked on the far end, it appeared, and your focus is mostly pulled to the icy ground to ensure you don’t faceplant in front of the hockey player glued to your left side.
You cut a glance at him. His nose is scrunched against the cold air, hair swept back. “Thanks for the save. Sorry if I put you in a tough spot.”
“I would’ve done it anyway,” Shane says, then shrugs, like the admission surprises him too. “It’s kind… kind of exhausting sometimes, isn’t it?”
You blow out a breath. “It is, yeah. I’m so grateful for all of my fans, and all of these opportunities… but I think I would like to just go to a hockey game and maybe get piss-drunk and make a fool of myself without it being the front page of People.”
Hollander laughs. “That’s not as much of a thing here as it is in America.”
You grin. “Yeah, probably for the best. I think Boston’s fucked with my perception of what’s socially acceptable.”
There’s a beat of silence. Hollander glances up at you, opens his mouth, then closes it. When he speaks, he does so quickly: “I’m, uh, a pretty big fan. I was really excited when I saw that you were doing a new Bond movie with Rose Landry.”
You grin. “Really? I’m a huge fan of you, dude. I think I drove like forty-five minutes to catch this game. You’re spectacular; my Dad is, like, obsessed with you.”
Hollander blushes.
“Just your Dad?” He asks.
“Don’t want to scare you off too early, Hollander.”
“You can call me Shane.”
You slow down in front of your car. “Then call me Y/n. This is me. Thanks again, dude. Hey — here.” You fumble for your phone. “Give me your number? You should come to the premier when it happens.”
He ducks his head to grope around in his hockey bag for his phone. You don’t want the moment to end, so when he leans forward to hand you the device, you blurt: “Actually, if you’re a fan of the movie, you want me to introduce you to Rose? I was about to go and meet her for dinner. My treat.”
You watch, fascinated, as red rises in Shane’s cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I’d love to.”
“Can I give you a lift?”
He nods and leaves to drop his bag off in his car, and you pull out your phone and shoot a text to Rose.
can i bring shane hollander to dinner? please say yes because i may have already invited him
SHANE HOLLANDER?? the hockey player? how did you manage this
he helped bail me out of a press thing
LMAO you were caught at the game? did sam threaten to kill you? yup he can come to dinner
thank you you’re amazing i adore you
//
It’s sort of surreal to glance over and see Shane sprawled across your passenger seat. He’s a big guy, and his knees are slightly cramped up where they don’t fit entirely under the dash.
You start the car, listen to the gentle hum of the engine. “Oh, sorry, man. The seat’s way forward; that’s usually Rose’s spot. You can tug it back… it’s kind of hard to find. Is it okay if I reach over?”
Shane smiles, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, sure.”
You reach across his lap, mostly because the lever really is difficult to find, and slightly because you want to see him blush again, and pull it. The seat slides smoothly back. You watch Shane rearrange himself, and nod, satisfied, then latch his seat belt into place.
The road is surprisingly deserted, but icy. You used to just catch the bus when it got this cold in Boston. And then, of course, you got the lead in Running Man, and then Spiderman, and then you were the next James Bond, and suddenly had Uber money.
You’re yanked from your focus when Shane asks, voice almost faux casual, “So, are you and Rose dating?”
“Curious, are we?” You respond, even though his interest paints a grin across your face. Fuck boy grin, indeed.
“Oh, you know me. Can’t get enough of the celebrity dating rumors.” Shane deadpans back, and you laugh. He seems to be relaxing the longer he spends in your presence. You’re suddenly determined to preserve the wry smile on his face, the look in his eye — he’s gorgeous.
“Oh? You get any of those?”
“Mm. Not really. I don’t usually have time for anything other than hockey.”
“And juice commercials in see-through shirts, huh?”
Shane blushes. “You’ve seen those? That’s — my mom sets those up.”
“And she’s doing a service to the people, sweetheart.” You quip back. The endearment slips out almost unconsciously; you only realize what you’ve said when Shane chokes slightly.
“Fuck, sorry, I —”
“I don’t mind,” he says. His hands are folded in his lap when you glance quickly over, focus still pulled by the road, and his cheeks are painted a pretty pink.
You’re pretty sure that you can physically feel your heart skip a beat. Jesus, you need to get a grip.
“Yeah?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he responds.
//
You guide Shane through the rear entrance with a hand resting lightly on his lower back. He presses back into you, warmth radiating through his clothes, steady and grounding. His head darts around every so often to ensure no one’s watching, but the back alley is empty.
You pull open the door from him with a flourish. “After you.”
He grins. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”
“Just go in,” You laugh.
When you step past the threshold, light floods your vision. The small building is well lit and heated. A low thrum of chatter fills the air, and you can smell the heady aroma of garlic and tomatoes. You let your hand drop from Shane’s back when he shifts slightly forward.
Rose waves you over eagerly from where she’s tucked into a booth. You pull her into a hug before ushering Shane onto the opposite bench and dropping down next to him. She arches an amused eyebrow at you.
“Shane Hollander, right? God, Y/n never shuts up about you. I think he knows your stats better than his lines.”
You huff in protest. “Christ, woman! The monologue is in Russian!”
You both hesitate slightly, then glance at Shane. Rose sighs. “Please don’t mind that. He’s incapable of not spoiling something.”
Shane just smiles and browses the menu. “Hear what?”
//
The rest of dinner is comfortable. Shane orders a side salad that he picks at enough that you slide half of your salmon fillet onto his plate, urging him to eat. Rose, inevitably, does not like her pasta dish, so you swap meals with her and Shane eats the tomatoes you pick out of the noodles.
You barely notice the time passing, and it’s only Shane’s slightly drooping eyelids that make you realize it’s been almost two hours since you last sat down. You pay for the check quickly, ignoring Shane’s attempts to grab the bill, then wave Rose goodbye and bundle a sleepy Shane in your leather jacket. He pulls the edges around himself and you lead him gently through the rows of booths and back to the car.
“You okay?” You ask.
He yawns. “Mhm. Just exhausted.”
He nods off in the passenger seat while you go to pay the valet fee, so you reach over and shake his shoulder gently when you climb back into the car.
“Shane? Sweetheart? Where should I drop you off?”
He grumbles slightly, shifting, and catches your hand, pressing it to his chest. “Just take me home. I don’t want to go back to the hotel.”
“I think we’ll have to, man. Montreal’s a five hour plane ride away.”
“Mm. Your place is fine, then. Can’t listen to Hayden snore or I’m gonna get arrested.” He grouses, then shifts and firmly shuts his eyes, which you take as your cue to drive.
The security at the temporary filming apartment is good, and it’s late enough that you’re not worried about cameras, so you maneuver a sleepily out-of-it Shane onto your back and hoist your hands under his thighs, carrying him up. You struggle a little bit more than your trainer would probably like with his hockey-bulk.
For the first time, you let yourself really realize that he’s a man — it seems like a stupid conclusion to draw, but you’ve only let yourself sleep with or date women for the past three years. You’d been too much in the media eye, your career still too young; but looking at Shane’s freckles seem to make all of these reasons seem arbitrary.
God, you didn’t even know if he liked guys.
When you reach your door, you set him down gently, and he sways on his feet while you unlock your apartment door and lead him inside. You crouch down to pull off his shoes, and his hands immediately wrap in your hair, fingers carding through the short length.
“You can take the master, if you’d like? I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Shane mumbles in agreement, and you reach up to gently squeeze his wrist to release his grip before dragging him down the hallway. He collapses on your bed immediately, face-down, and you roll him until you can manage to tuck him under the covers.
“Sleep well, sweetheart.”
You close the door and make an aborted motion towards your bathroom to brush your teeth before entirely abandoning the endeavor and letting yourself tumble down onto the cheap, pre-furnished couch. Rose had insisted on leaving an obscenely expensive throw-blanket tucked over the cushions, and you drag it down over yourself and drift to sleep, mind spinning.
Summary: Telling Jack about Dana's divorce from her husband reminds him to tell you that he and Dana were once married. You don't think much of it until the shitty Fourth of July shift, which gives you the idea to cheer up your favorite charge nurse in an unorthodox way.
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Attending!Reader x Dana Evans
Content warnings: MDNI, set after s2 finale, I made Abbot a day shift diva, established reader & Jack, Dana Evans and Jack Abbot are a divorced couple in my heart, timeline may not make sense but I tried (see end author's note), older man & older woman/younger woman (Jack & Dana are 50 & reader is 33), angst, smut, threesome (F/M/F), Dominant!Dana, Switch!Abbot (only b/c it's Dana), Submissive!Reader, oral sex (F/F), hair-pulling, little bit of dirty talk, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control & Dana either is too or she's post-menopausal (lucky))
Word count: 5,838
Read on ao3 here
Author's note: this turned angsty-ier than I meant for it to be, but I kind of love it? also describing the reader's relationship with bisexuality is a self insert moment, to be honest. "write what you know" and all that. let me overshare for a second: kissed a girl at a frat party, then I kissed a frat guy, then I got them to do a threeway kiss with me. two lips on mine simultaneously. it's the same thing to me. anyways. I hope everyone enjoys and gets more bisexual after reading!!!
When Dana came back after her break, she told you she filed for divorce from her husband.
“Benji’s just…too simple,” she said in the ambulance bay a few months ago.
You didn’t ask for more information. You just stood there quietly, pressing the toe of your shoe on the cigarette butt she stomped out a few minutes ago.
“Well, this gives you more time to explore your sapphic side,” you had said softly, holding back a smile.
When you looked up, you could tell Dana was trying not to smile, but failing miserably.
“Did Abbot blab?” she questioned.
You shook your head.
“I see the way you look at all the MILFs that walk through here,” you said knowingly.
Dana shrugged, a big grin plastered to her face.
“That’s none of your concern, sweetheart,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.
In bed with Jack that night, you brought up Dana’s divorce.
“Oh, shit,” he sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “That guy is the whole reason we got divorced in the first place.”
You shot up from your lying down position.
“Who the fuck is we?” you asked.
You’d only been sleeping with Jack for about six months at that point, and had only made things exclusive about two months prior to this conversation. Given how busy your schedules had always been, there hadn’t been much time for sit-down dinner dates.
Jack sat up and took your hand in his.
“I’ll be honest: I kind of forget about it sometimes. And the times I do remember, I think I should give her the heads up that I’m about to tell you,” he said, holding your gaze the entire time.
“You and Dana?” you whispered incredulously.
Jack nodded.
“How?”
He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.
“I knew her in college. When I came back after the Army, she was in a bad place, and I was going to med school. Anyway, I saw her at, I don’t know, a grocery store or something. I invited her out for drinks that night, and we got to talking… We both needed support, and getting married gave her a better health insurance option, and she helped me get used to life with the amputation, so it was really more friendly than it was romantic.”
As he explained everything so calmly, you almost forgot to be bewildered by the fact that Jack Abbot and Dana Evans were once married to each other.
“For how long?” you asked after a few moments of silence.
“Three years,” he replied.
Your eyes practically bugged out of your head. “Did you guys have sex?”
Jack scoffed, actually scoffed, at that. “Come on, of course we did. Although, funnily enough, not that often. Usually, if she was having sex, she was having one-night stands at bars.”
You furrowed your brow and asked, “Did you have sex with other people?”
His gaze softened. “Not until the last six months of us being married. The whole leg thing was so new, and I didn’t really know how to go about it with anyone for a while. Dana was actually really patient that whole time; she helped me re-learn a lot.”
Your heart clenched more than you were prepared for, and the lump in your throat surprised you.
“I didn’t realize…how close the two of you were,” you murmured softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Well, y’know, she met Benji, and that’s when we got the divorce, and she got pregnant pretty quickly after they got married, which happened quicker than I thought it would, too." Jack’s eyes had flickered to your joined hands for just a moment, something unspoken setting up camp on the tip of his tongue. “But before her first kid was born is when I met my wife,” he said softly. He managed to give you a small, tired smile before he added, “So it all worked out.”
//
The idea pops into your head on the Fourth. Robby had been a mess the whole day, only adding to Dana’s already chronic stress. When you looked up from your chart, you saw it: Jack’s hand on her back when he noticed she was holding back tears.
You don’t want to eavesdrop, plus, you already know you’ll be staying late to catch up with charting anyway, so you don’t listen; you let them have their space.
As you mindlessly keep charting, your mind replays Jack touching Dana so softly, so gently, so fucking intimately.
After hearing about their past relationship, you thought you might get a little jealous seeing them interact. Instead, you’re surprisingly curious about what their interactions together mean to one another. You’ve witnessed their friendship for the last three years since you transferred to PTMC for your R3 year, but with the new information you have now, you can’t help but wonder: Is there subtext? Did all those touches and words you perceived as friendly mean something more?
It’s been years since Jack’s wife passed away; he’s been fucking you at least four times a week for the better part of a year, so obviously, he’s healed enough.
Dana’s in the midst of divorce proceedings with her husband, whom you get the feeling she hasn’t loved for a while. She’s mentally checked out there.
Are Jack and Dana going to find their way back to each other? Is the only reason they divorced that Dana’s daughters with Benji cosmically needed to exist in the world?
It sounds like jealousy as you mull it over in your head, but it doesn’t feel that way.
They’re both hot, that’s undeniable. Learning Dana’s had her fair share of sapphic experiences only endeared her to you all the more.
You’d always had an inkling you were attracted to both sexes and ended up confirming it in college, ironically, at a frat party, when a girl you met that day kissed you. It felt the same as kissing a boy; what’s in someone’s pants doesn’t matter to you.
Maybe you’re kind and want to help Dana feel better. Maybe you’re horny and selfish and would really love having the hottest man and woman you know both naked with you in bed. Maybe you need to see them together to make it clear that Jack’s with you now, and Dana’s going to figure out what she needs.
Whatever the actual reason is for wanting to invite Dana into bed with you and Jack tonight doesn’t matter to you. You know you want this, so you’re going to ask for it.
When Dana walks off, you approach Jack at the nurse’s station.
“Can I talk to you?” you ask softly.
“Something wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on your back just like he did to Dana not moments ago, guiding you toward a less busy area of the E.D.
“What if we invited Dana over tonight?”
You almost expect Jack’s eyes to bug out of his head, but they don’t. He stays calm and speaks softly and clearly.
“Why are you asking this?”
With a shrug, you murmur, “She takes care of everyone. Who takes care of her?”
He crosses his arms across his chest and leans forward to speak directly in your ear. “That’s it?”
You take a step back and look him right in the eye.
Maybe it’s not the only reason, but Jack can’t deny he’s curious about where this could go or the fact that he’d love nothing more than to help Dana feel better after such a shitty day.
After a few more moments, Jack nods and mumbles his agreement.
When the three of you finally get off, Jack hands you the keys to his truck, then heads over to where Dana’s walking toward her car.
“Hi,” he says simply, catching her attention.
Dana looks over her shoulder as she unlocks the car with her key fob.
“Hey,” she replies softly, giving her first husband a kind smile.
“You doing okay?”
She shrugs. “I will be. Probably gonna smoke half a pack on my porch and watch the fireworks.”
“How do you feel about some company?” Jack offers, nodding to you sitting in his truck a few yards away.
Dana looks from you to him and smiles.
“I don’t need to be a third wheel, Abbot,” she says, scoffing, now leaning against the back of her car.
“You wouldn’t be a third wheel. We wanna take care of you tonight,” he says, his voice low, taking a few steps closer until the toes of their shoes touch.
Dana holds back a laugh and furrows her brow.
“What, your girl got a MILF fantasy, Abbot?” she scoffs.
Jack just shakes his head. “I… Fuck, I meant to tell you. I told her about you and me. She’s okay with it. She told me about you and Benji, so one thing led to another… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Dana shakes her head now. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re in charge of what you talk to your girlfriend about.”
He wants her to feel welcome in this arrangement tonight, so he says, “She’s bi, too,” softly, only loud enough for Dana to hear.
She softens her gaze. She always caught your flirty comments toward her, and could tell that while they were always in good fun, they meant something different coming from you.
“I know,” she whispers.
Jack seems a little surprised, but he nods nonetheless. “Uh, anyway, she’d like to show her favorite charge nurse a little appreciation. We couldn’t have gotten through today without you. You took care of everyone all day. It’s time you get the favor returned.”
Dana sighs and stays silent for a moment. If Jack didn’t know her so well, he’d be nervous.
“Your place?” she finally asks.
Jack nods.
“Okay,” Dana sighs. “I’m gonna shower at my place. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Should I bring anything? For her?”
“No, we’ve got everything we’ll need. Anything you wanna bring is fine though.”
She nods, then sighs. “This is okay with you?”
When Dana and Jack got married, it was at the courthouse. They both wore t-shirts, and neither of them currently speaks to the former mutual friends they had agreed to be witnesses to their wedding anymore. Jack and Dana both knew that the marriage was more practical than anything else. Still, when Dana told Jack about Benji, that the inevitable day had come, he took it harder than either of them anticipated.
Jack considers her question for a moment, then he nods.
“I have her now,” he says softly, looking briefly to the side where he can see you sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone. Then he looks back at Dana. “And tonight I got you, too.”
He means it differently, and Dana knows that, but that doesn’t mean it warms her heart any less.
She takes a step forward, her feet slotted in between and on the side of his, their fronts pressed together. Her hands go to his arms, and she looks at him, really looks.
Here’s the guy who once balanced medical school with learning how to walk through life with one less leg, now an attending who’s never been more sure of himself.
He’s grown up, and she has too.
But never apart.
Jack leans down and kisses her. Then one hand goes to her back and the other to her cheek, her hands go to his jaw and neck, and suddenly they’re in their late 20s again, kissing because a white-haired judge told Jack to kiss his bride.
Dana pulls back and leans her forehead against Jack’s. He kisses her cheek, then starts walking toward his truck.
He looks over his shoulder and watches Dana’s car drive off, then he opens the driver’s door to his truck, gets in, and immediately leans over the console, taking your jaw in his hands and smashing his lips against yours.
Your phone clatters to the floor, knocking against the plastic of the passenger door, but you don’t care. Jack’s lips on yours, which taste like cherry Chapstick, feel too good.
“Mm. You kissed her,” you moan against his lips, your fingers gently pulling at his hair.
Jack pulls back, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
He doesn’t say anything. He just buckles your seatbelt, then his own, and pulls out of the parking lot.
A mile away from his house, he says, “She’ll text me when she’s on her way.”
He glances at you, and you nod. The two of you ride in silence the rest of the way.
When he parks in the driveway, he gets out first while you gather your things. He opens the door for you, then again at the front door.
He kisses your temple and offers his shower to you, which you graciously accept.
Right before you’re done, you see his form moving in the bathroom through the fogged-up glass shower door. He sits on the toilet seat with your towel folded on his lap.
When you shut off the water and slide the door open, Jack holds the towel out, rising to his feet and wrapping you up in the towel.
He’s being more affectionate than he usually is. Jack’s a little worried that you feel insecure about his first marriage, but he also suspects tonight is the only way to help alleviate that feeling.
With another kiss to your temple, he squeezes your shoulders, then heads to the bedroom where he strips to just his boxers, the prosthesis going with his clothes.
You come out of the bathroom, the bathrobe he bought last month for you to have here draped over your shoulders, the belt loosely tied.
You sit on the edge of the bed next to Jack and lean your head against his shoulder, watching as he massages his residual limb.
“Hurt?” you ask softly.
He shakes his head. “Just a long day.”
His phone vibrates against the bed.
“She’s fifteen minutes out,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your cheek.
There are a few moments of silence before he asks, “Is it in poor taste to say I’m excited to see you two together?”
You chuckle softly and shake your head.
“Your first wife and current girlfriend fucking… Nah, you’re entitled to be excited, Jack,” you say, smiling as you turn your gaze toward his.
When you lean forward and kiss him, Jack groans into your mouth, his hands going to your breasts and the back of your head.
Eventually, Jack’s on his back, and you’re humping him through his boxers, and you stay like that until his phone buzzes again, a text from Dana saying she’s a block away coming through.
You peck Jack’s lips one more time, then leave the bedroom, retying the robe as you head to the front door. When you open it, you find Dana walking up the driveway, hair half-wet, wearing low-rise sweatpants and a thin white tank top, clearly sans bra.
You’d seen Dana outside of her scrubs before. She’d invited you on outings before. Sometimes with other women from work, sometimes just the two of you.
But you’ve never seen her without a bra on, and you’re learning very quickly that you’d like to see this version of her more often.
“Jack’s already taken off his prosthetic,” you say, trying to explain why you’re opening his door. “He’s in the bedroom, but I can get you something to drink if you want.”
Dana’s gaze doesn’t waver as she walks up to the porch. She’s not nervous; she’s calm and sure of herself.
She and Jack tried to have a threesome two years into their marriage, but something wasn’t right, and Jack ended up politely offering to call the woman a cab.
That was a stranger in a bar, and this is you, someone Jack loves, someone Dana cares about. If nothing else, she’s grateful for your friendship.
“Some water would be nice for all three of us,” she says as you open the door for her.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you agree, shutting the door behind you.
Dana takes her shoes off, leaving them by the front door, then follows you to the kitchen.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks as you hold a glass under the refrigerator’s water dispenser.
“Of course.”
“When’s the last time you were with a woman?”
You hand the now full glass to Dana, who’s leaning against the counter.
“A year ago. One night stand. She was probably about ten years older. I don’t normally top,” you reply, filling a second glass with water.
Dana just nods, surprised, but pleasantly so with your blunt answer.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t normally bottom.”
You finish filling up the third glass of water and set both on the counter, then step towards Dana, leaning your hands on the counter, practically caging her in.
Dana’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t waver. She looks down at your cleavage, the robe becoming looser around your body with all your movement. Then she looks at your eyes, which don’t meet hers because they’re stuck on her lips.
You lean forward, and she meets you halfway, her lips pressing against yours and her hands going to your waist.
She smiles against your lips when you take her bottom lip between your teeth, then pulls back, ducking under your arm. She takes her glass of water and makes her way to Jack’s bedroom.
You stand there for a moment, lips still tingling. With a shaky breath, you take the other two glasses and pad into the bedroom, finding Dana slipping out of her sweatpants, revealing blue cotton panties.
Jack is still on the bed in just his boxers, watching his first wife. When he hears your footsteps, his gaze falls on you, and his smile is soft, kind, but wanting.
You set both glasses on his nightstand, then crawl up the bed, sitting at the bottom, your eyes on Dana, who’s folding up her pants, leaving them on Jack’s dresser.
She stalks toward the bed, clad in just the white tank top and blue panties, then crawls toward you and Jack, putting a hand on the exposed skin of your knee.
“Heard you wanted to take care of your favorite charge nurse,” she murmurs softly, her other hand going to your hair, gently stroking before taking hold of the side of your face.
“That’s right.”
The hand on your knee travels up your thigh, her fingers grazing your hip, confirming that you’re bare beneath the robe.
“How do you plan on doing that?” she asks, her voice low and raspy.
Jack smiles as he reclines against the pillows. God, her voice. It would make Jack weak in the knees in the early days of their marriage. Watching her use it on you is a fucking treat.
You look down at her hand, now disappeared under your robe, then at her eyes.
“However you tell me to,” you answer confidently.
When you were a resident, Jack noticed you didn’t quite like having to take orders from Robby, other attendings, or even him. Would you follow them? Yes, but he could always tell you liked it just enough less than the other residents for him to take notice.
But in the bedroom, you’re confident in your submission.
“Good girl,” Dana whispers.
Jack’s cock twitches in his boxers, and he lets out a rough sigh, which catches Dana’s attention.
She’s different from you in that she doesn’t take orders at work or in the bedroom.
“You’re gonna watch at first,” she tells Jack.
He almost wants to protest, but you and he really want to give Dana exactly what she wants and needs tonight, so instead he nods.
She turns back to you and whispers, “I wanna see you.”
When you nod, she unties the belt of your robe, then pushes it off your shoulders, baring your nude form to her eyes for the first time.
Dana doesn’t say anything at first as she takes in your appearance, but then she looks at Jack and says, “You’re one lucky bastard, Abbot.”
He just smiles, then replies with a simple, “Yeah, I know.”
Dana looks back at you.
“I want you to lie down next to Jack and let me eat this pretty pussy,” she says, her fingertips dancing in your pubic hair. “Yes, ma’am?”
You nod and softly murmur, “Yes, ma’am.”
Slowly, you crawl up the bed and lie down next to Jack. You take notice of the tent growing in his boxers, but then your eyes are on Dana again, who’s settling on her stomach, looking at your pussy with hungry eyes.
She starts with a kiss against your already wet slit. Your breath hitches, and she goes for another kiss, this time to your clit.
You moan softly, your brow furrowing as you watch her, and then she starts really licking your pussy.
Unsure if you’re allowed to touch her, given the strict rule she gave Jack of only watching, you bury your hands into the sheets and arch your back off the bed, breathy whines leaving your mouth.
Beside you, Jack’s body is stiff, his lips pursed as he fights not to touch you or Dana.
It’s hotter than he thought it’d be, watching his first wife eat out his girlfriend. Dana’s hands are gripping your thighs, holding you steady as she basically makes out with your cunt. He hopes she’ll let him kiss her when she’s done, so he can taste you on her tongue.
“Fuck, I’m gonna…”
Your whine paired with your clit pulsating against Dana’s tongue only causes her to work faster, determined to bring you over the edge.
With a whine and a sharp arch of your back, you climax, your labia pulsating against Dana’s tongue while she laps up your cum.
Beside Jack, you’re struggling to regain your composure, and that’s when he makes his move.
“Dana.” Her name is a strangled whisper on his lips.
She looks up, then leans over your body and crashes her lips into his. Her hands go to his shoulder and his hair.
Your cum mixed with the nicotine gum taste on Dana’s breath is some sort of heaven for Jack. He places a palm over her back and lets his free hand go to her breast, gently squeezing it through the shirt, pulling a moan from her throat.
She pulls away and puts her attention on you. “You got any rules for him?”
You furrow your brow, breath still coming fast, and sit up.
“Is he allowed inside of me?” Dana clarifies.
She may have been married to him once, but he’s yours now. She doesn’t want to take him from you; she likes you too much to do that to you.
You nod your head. “Everything’s on the table. You get to take the lead.”
She considers your words for a moment, then looks at Jack.
“What do you want from us?” he asks her softly, placing both hands on her hips.
“I want you to fuck her while she eats me out,” Dana says, her voice low and gravely. “Then, once she comes, I want you to fuck me while she watches. And neither of you comes until I say so.”
Jack keeps his gaze fixed on Dana’s the entire time she speaks, never wavering, not even when you let out a whine in response to her words. He just nods, then leans forward and kisses her, her tongue wet and soft against his.
He places his hands on Dana’s body and manages to gently push her off of him so she can lie back against the pillows.
Dana breaks the kiss with a sigh and pulls her panties down her legs, followed by her tank top, now fully naked.
You lie on your side, horizontally in front of Dana, so that Jack can comfortably fuck you. While he sticks a finger inside of you, both to get you ready for him and gather your slick to lubricate his cock, you moan against Dana’s inner thighs while you pepper them with gentle kisses, building the anticipation before you bring your tongue to her slit.
Just as Jack notches his tip with your entrance, he whispers in your ear, “Go and show Dana how good that fucking mouth works.”
He pushes inside of you, and you dive into Dana’s cunt, moaning softly against her, causing her whole body to tingle.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” she moans softly, reaching down to keep a hand at the back of your head, just to hold, not to push.
“She doing a good job over there?” Jack asks Dana, his voice soft and husky as he restrains himself from just ramming into you.
Dana lets out a breathy scoff and nods her head. “Yeah, I’d say she’s making you proud with how good she’s using this fucking tongue of hers.”
Jack smiles and brings a hand up to your breast to squeeze the flesh and tweak your nipple.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers in your ear, his lips moving against your skin. “You’re doing such a good job, honey.”
You keen at both of their praising words and apply more pressure with your tongue against Dana while arching your chest into Jack’s hand.
Just as you arch into Jack’s hand, he takes his hand away from your breast, caressing the length of your body, from your ribs to your waist to your hip where he squeezes again, pulling moans from your throat that reverberate throughout Dana’s body as you continue lapping at her cunt, which has her burying her hand deeper in your hair, tugging on the root, causing more moans.
It’s like a continuous domino effect, and it, paired with Jack and Dana’s touch, is on their way to overstimulating you.
“Wanna come,” you moan against Dana’s weeping folds before sucking her clit.
“Not yet,” she says breathily, tugging on your hair once again.
Jack grunts softly in your ear, bringing two fingers down to your clit even though Dana hasn’t given you permission to come yet.
You let out a whine and squirm against his hips. “Jack, please…”
“Just making my girl feel good,” he whispers before kissing your cheek.
With another pathetic whine, you resume your ministrations on Dana, who quickly squeezes her thighs around your head, her clit pulsating against your tongue as you slip a finger inside of her.
“Fuck,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “Oh, Jack, you lucky son of a bitch.”
Dana doesn’t warn you, but the way her cunt clenches around your finger as you move it in and out of her is warning enough. She comes with a deep sigh, clamping down on your finger and slowly cumming on your mouth.
You don’t stop until she pushes you away, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she fights to regain her composure.
“Fuck… Okay, Jack, you got two minutes to make this girl come, and then I’m stealing you from her,” Dana says breathlessly.
Jack pulls you closer, and you turn your head back enough so he can angle his lips toward yours. He tastes Dana on your tongue, and he thinks he might come before Dana lets him. He rubs your clit in circles and picks up the pace of his thrusts, soaking in how your body feels against and around his, swallowing each whine, moan, and gasp you let out of your mouth.
“Come on, baby, show Dana how pretty you look when you come,” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
With a prolonged moan from you in response to his words, your cunt flutters around Jack’s cock, your eyes squeezing shut as pleasure washes over your body. In the throes of your orgasm, Dana brings her hand to your cheek, brushing her thumb back and forth across your skin as Jack fucks you through it, his lips moving against your ear again, whispering how good a girl you are, how tight your cunt is around him, how pretty you look with his cock inside of you.
Once it’s too much, you cover his hand with your own and pull it away from your clit, bringing his knuckles to your lips.
“So pretty,” Dana murmurs, her hand reaching out to stroke your hip.
You shut your eyes for a moment, relishing the gentle touches of both Jack and Dana, then squirm away from Jack, both of you hissing softly as he slips out of you.
“Use him,” you whisper in Dana’s ear before kissing her, wet and sloppy.
She moans into your mouth and tangles her fingers in your hair before crawling over your body towards Jack, who immediately positions her the same way he had you.
“You ready?” he whispers in Dana’s ear, kissing the back of her neck.
“Just fuck me,” she replies, and Jack quickly slides inside, desperate to get his dick wet again.
You lie against the pillows and watch the divorced couple fuck like no time has passed.
It’s interesting to watch. It’s probably worlds different from when they were married, but then what do you know? You were in elementary school while they had a joint bank account and Dana was helping Jack learn how to navigate intimacy with one less limb. They’ll always have that, and as long as you’re with Jack, you’ll try to keep from feeling jealous about it.
You watch Jack’s fingers reach down to rub Dana’s clit and listen to the soft whines he pulls from her lips. She reaches behind and grabs his hip, giving herself some leverage to meet his thrusts.
“You’re still so fucking tight,” Jack whispers in Dana’s ear, putting a smirk on her face.
“You’re still too cocky for your own good,” she shoots back.
Jack pinches her hip in response.
“Is it cocky if it always ends with orgasms?”
No one responds, and Jack moves his hand up to cup Dana’s breast, his fingers kneading at her flesh, sometimes grazing his fingernail against her nipple while his other hand keeps a steady pace on her clit.
Dana whines softly in response and reaches for you. You lie down in front of her, and she pulls you towards her, pulling you in for another kiss while Jack feels her up.
“So pretty,” you pant against the older woman’s lips. “Look so pretty with my boyfriend inside of you.”
Both Dana and Jack let out soft moans in response to your words, which only encourages you to go further.
“Yeah, you like having your ex-husband inside of you? Hm? Does he fuck as good as he used to? Or did he get better with age?”
Dana scoffs and smiles at you. “Mouthy thing, aren’t you?”
“Tell me,” you urge, smiling. “Is he better now?”
Dana leans forward to press another peck to your lips, then leans back again, licking her lips.
“Sweetheart, I think it’s safe to say he’s fermented to perfection,” she says, and Jack can hear the smile in Dana’s voice as she speaks, and it does fucking wonders for his ego, pushing him to thrust a little harder into Dana.
“Oh, shit! Yeah, just like that, Jack,” Dana moans, her hands reaching for your head again, moaning into your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
It’s all the more motivation for Jack to just keep going.
“Can I, can I please come with you?” he asks, out of breath. “Please, Dana.”
Dana pulls back and smiles at you again, her breath coming quicker as you bring your finger to her clit, bumping into Jack’s fingers.
“Yeah, you come for me like a good boy, Jackie,” she says before clamping down on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth, pulling his long-awaited orgasm from him, both their cum mixing together.
As they regain their composure, Jack gently pulls out of Dana and lies on his back.
You stand from the bed and head into the bathroom to grab a few wet washcloths that you bring back to the bed. You kneel on the bed and gently run a washcloth over Dana’s thighs, then gently over her swollen, fucked-out pussy.
Then you turn towards Jack, but he takes the rag from your hand and sits up, cleaning you before letting you get to him.
“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing your sternum.
He takes the other washcloth and cleans himself, then tosses it all to the side. He looks over at Dana, who’s sliding off the bed, searching for her panties with her glass of water in her hand.
“Hey,” you whisper, your hand in Jack’s hair.
Dana looks up, a hand on her hip.
“Stay?” you ask, giving her your best puppy dog eyes.
She hesitates, so Jack faces her and says, “The bed’s big enough.”
You reach a hand out, and she takes it, crawling into bed and wrapping her arms around you.
Jack slots in behind you, putting a hand on your hip, his fingertips brushing with Dana’s.
You’re still not sure of the exact reason why you wanted to invite Dana into your and Jack’s intimate lives for the night, but you sure are glad you did. She’s an incredible woman, and you only hope you took some of the stress off her mind, at least for tonight.
Soon, Dana’s breath deepens, and you can tell she’s asleep.
Jack kisses the back of your neck and whispers words you didn’t think you’d ever hear him say.
“I love you.”
He isn’t sure why you invited Dana, either, outside of taking care of her needs for the night, but he knows one thing for certain: he still loves her. How could he not? She helped him through one of the hardest times in his life. She made him feel like a person again.
He owes a lot to her, but he also knows this: she’s not you.
Jack and Dana had their time, and he’ll always be grateful for it, but at this stage in his life, he needs you. Things are easy with you in a way they weren’t with his first wife or his second wife. He’s a lucky man to get to love three women in his life, and he doesn’t want to lose again.
You slowly turn on your back so you can look at him. It’s dark, but there’s enough moonlight seeping in through the curtains to tell you that he’s serious. He isn’t telling you he loves you in hopes of easing any insecurity you may have about his previous marriage with Dana; he’s telling you he loves you because it’s true.
You reach a hand up to bury it in his hair and lean your forehead against his chest. You kiss the left side of his chest, then look up again and whisper your reply.
“I love you, too.”
tags: @person-005 @alliewrights @michasia24 @emoprincess9402 @maystyles @its--fandom--darling
p.s. if you would like to be added to Jack Abbot taglist, or my all works taglist, or any works pertaining to The Pitt, just leave a comment asking! <3
end author's note: here is the timeline for the events in this story: Jack and Dana go to the same college and meet, Jack enlists in the Army as a medic, does his five years, comes back with the amputation, as he's recovering and rehabbing, he studies for the MCAT, gets accepted to med school, runs into Dana, drinks, hang around for a few months, then they decide to get married, three years married, Dana meets Benji, soon after Jack and Dana divorce, Dana and Benji get married and get pregnant, Jack graduates med school (Dana definitely went to the ceremony), Jack meets canon wife, residency at PTMC while Dana is a nurse, charge nurse and attending, years and years go by, enter reader coming to PTMC her third year of residency, stays on as she becomes attending, she and Jack start sleeping together her second year as an attending, months and months, then exclusivity, then the threesome
guys I looked on The Pitt Wiki and it lowkey only helped a little and I don't watch interviews so if you read this and were disgusted by my timeline I am sorry
jj maybank x fem!reader x kiara carrera | word count: 2.1k
a/n: so apparently I can only write good smut when I'm high af lol, here you go, enjoy! (haven't labelled everything in the content warning cause honestly idek what i put in here)
cw: 18+ content, porn with no plot, threesome (again, Kie and JJ fuck in this, its labelled for what it is) sub!jj (begging, overstimulation, he tells reader to stop and she doesn't), Kie and reader are mean to jj lol but he loves it
It had been weeks since you hooked up with JJ and Kie. There was an awkward sort of tension that none of you knew how to name — each of you thinking the others regretted it, didn’t want to revisit it, all silently, secretly, wanting.
You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Late at night. It’d play over and over in your mind as your hand slipped beneath your sleep shorts. Flashes of the night would play through your mind at the most inconvenient times. Sitting at a family dinner, hell, even at work, standing at the register, right in the middle of a conversation. JJ fucking you into oblivion, Kie’s mouth on you, your face buried in her pussy. Fuck. You’d get soaked just thinking about it.
The others were no better; JJ getting hard the second you’d touch him, fisting his dick later that night to the thought of being buried deep in your pussy while Kie rode his face. Kie would do the same; fingers sliding into herself as she remembered the way your skin felt against hers, the way you tasted, the way you came so pretty on her face. JJ fucking her so hard she saw stars.
Every time they met your eyes, you’d feel a rush of heat, JJ smirking when he’d remember the way you screamed his name — faltering slightly when you’d look away. Kie was more touchy than usual since then — a hand on your knee, her head resting on your chest, drawing small circles into your thigh. The casual touches had you burning, heart thrumming hard in your chest.
You wanted to talk about it, wanted to ask if they were thinking about it as much as you. Wanted to know if they were feeling the way you were — wanting nothing more than to kiss them again, fuck them. If only you knew.
It happened at a party of all things — Kie grabbing your hand and pulling you into a room after doing a couple shots, the alcohol running through her fueling her actions. She had pushed you up against the door, smirking against your lips as you flipped the two of you, kissing down her neck. She pulls out her phone discreetly, texting JJ.
Third door on the left upstairs.
You’ve got Kie on the bed now, in nothing but her bra, pussy dragging across yours. You’re so wet, it drips down onto Kie, her gasping at the sensation. She’s grasping for something to hold, fingers fisting in your hair as she rolls her hips up against yours.
You hear the door click open behind you. Shit, you’d forgotten to lock it. You scramble to get off Kie, looking behind you as you pull your skirt down.
“Relax princess, s’just me. Was hoping I could join.” JJ locks the door behind him. His eyes are dark, smirk dripping in pure sin.
You barely acknowledge him, giving a small nod as you pull your skirt off, unclipping Kie’s bra in the process and watching it fall off. You’re both completely bare now, JJ letting out a groan as he lies back on the bed next to Kie, sipping his beer as he takes in the view. You roll your hips against Kie’s once again — her letting out an obscene moan at the sensation.
You lean down to kiss Kie, lips parting against hers to kiss her deeper. She tastes like beer and strawberry bubblegum. The smell of her shampoo is intoxicating as your fingers curl into her hair. You pull back so you’re sitting on your knees, hooking one of your legs over hers, the angle allowing you to grind down onto her deeper.
JJ’s just lying there, eyes fixed on the spot where you and Kie meet, the sight and the wet sounds making his dick throb in his pants. He pulls his pants and boxers down to his thighs, gripping his dick in his hand, tugging at it as he watches yours and Kie’s faces contort in pleasure. The way Kie’s pussy is dragging across your clit has you so close to coming.
“Mm, fuckkk — Kie, feels so fucking good,” you moan, eyes drifting over to JJ, biting your lip at how good he looks with his shorts halfway down his thighs, hand stroking his cock. He has his shirt off now — abs flexing as his hand continues moving up and down, thumb brushing over the tip as his eyes flutter closed.
“Eyes open.” You’re staring at JJ, eyes hard — focused.
His eyes open slowly, watching you as you gesture him closer, your hips still rolling against Kie’s as her head tips back in pure pleasure, hands grasping at your tits.
JJ shuffles himself closer, pulling off his shorts and boxers in the process. You cup his chin in your hand, pulling his mouth to you, aggressive. JJ practically whimpers against your lips, parting his to let you kiss him deeper — his mind going completely blank.
JJ’s still chasing your lips as you pull back suddenly, gripping his chin harder, pulling his view to the spot where you and Kie connect.
“Now watch, but don’t touch.”
JJ swallows hard. He can’t help but listen, eyes focused on your pussy dragging against Kie’s — completely mesmerized. His hand is still moving up and down when you catch his wrist, pulling it away from his dick. His eyes meet yours quickly, questioning. You smirk, pushing his chin down again, with a quick swipe of your thumb against his lips, pushing the tip in slightly before pulling it away, watching as JJ’s lips part — wet.
“I said no touching Jay.”
Kie’s hands grip your hips desperately, pushing you deeper, chasing her orgasm with a high moan. You feel yourself get close, lips messily meeting Kie’s as you feel her come against you. She’s whimpering desperately into your mouth as you kiss her. Your orgasm hits you slow — washes over you in waves as your tongue moves across Kiara’s.
You push two fingers into her, smirking as she pulls back from the kiss with a loud gasp. She’s pushing your hand away, overstimulated. You laugh, pulling your fingers out of her and moving over to straddle JJ’s lap, swinging your hip over his. You feel his hard dick brush against you and you bite your lip, holding back a moan.
JJ’s looking up at you — reverent, determined. You push your fingers against his lips, letting him wrap his lips around them and taste the mix of you and Kie. He sucks them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. You push them in and out, JJ swirling his tongue around them — his eyes never leaving yours.
Kie’s trembling next to you, eyes fluttering as she comes down from her orgasm. You pull your fingers from JJ’s mouth, before moving your hand down to his cock, pumping it slowly as his head falls pathetically to your shoulder, letting out a soft sound. You gesture to Kie to move behind JJ. She presses herself up against his back, wrapping her arms around him, tracing soft lines down his abs as her lips suck and bite at his neck.
JJ’s gone — utterly and completely gone. He gets lost in the feel of Kie’s lips kissing up and down his neck, one hand tugging on his strands of hair, the other tracing infuriatingly soft lines down his stomach. Her chest brushes against his back. JJ feels an odd sensation of being so relaxed and so aroused all at once. Your hand moves up and down his cock, tugging at it gently as your lips meet his in a soft kiss.
JJ didn’t realize how much he needed this — to be completely taken care of, pampered almost. Fuck, JJ feels like he could cry as he reaches his orgasm. Your hand moves faster, using your thumb to trace under the tip. You rest your forehead against his, Kie’s face buried in his neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there.
“Fuck baby — I’m gonna— please—” JJ lets out between moans. You grip him firmer, pulling him into a heated kiss, it’s messy and sloppy and so fucking good. JJ comes hard, spilling over your hand and Kie’s resting on his stomach. He groans into your mouth, biting down on your lip. You stroke him through it, before pushing him down onto the bed, Kie moving out from behind him. Her lips meet his, his hand cupping her jaw, Kie humming into his mouth as his tongue softly traces hers.
Your hand is still stroking him, using his cum to move your hand faster. JJ’s gasping, overstimulated out of his mind. You bring your mouth to his dick, kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed at the taste of him, the feel of him — heavy and hot on your tongue. You look up at him and the sight alone could have you coming — he’s flushed, face red, contorted in mind-numbing pleasure, jaw tense, abs flexing. His lips part around a gasp when your tongue presses flat against the underside of him. His hands push weakly at your head, letting out a soft whimper as Kie kisses him again.
“Fuck, baby please, s’too much, stop—I can’t—” His voice cuts off with a loud moan as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him harder, his cum dripping out around your lips. You keep going, head moving up and down as you feel him get harder in your mouth. Kiara’s kissing down his neck and JJ’s never felt so good. It’s too good — too much.
“Please—s’too—fuck baby please stop.” JJ’s head tips back, hands gripping your hair. You swat his hands away, sucking harder for just a second before pulling away. JJ lets out a gasp at the loss — only half relieved.
You turn to Kie, pulling her towards you before going down on her. You eat her out like you’re starved— nose nudging against her clit, tongue moving up and down before pushing it inside her, over and over. JJ’s watching, hands caressing your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you tongue-fuck Kie’s pussy. Kie comes hard and fast against your face, moaning uncontrollably as her body writhes under yours.
You look over at JJ, lying back with his arm behind his head, completely breathless, eyes filled with need. You straddle his hips again, letting his tip brush against your wet pussy. You slide his tip back and forth, coating it in your wetness. Your moans mix with JJ’s as his tip brushes your clit.
“Please baby, fuck me, I need you.” JJ’s eyes plead with you, pushing his hips up slightly, letting his tip sink into you before you push his hips down.
“Mm-mm, you said it was too much, now you need me?” You smirk as his eyes flutter closed at the feel of your slick dripping down around his dick. Fuck, he needs more.
“Yes, need you baby please, need to be inside you.” He tries pushing up into you as you lift your hips away from him. You need him just as much — pussy practically throbbing, clenching around nothing — but you don’t want to give in just yet.
“Too much talking. Kie, you wanna come shut him up?”
JJ’s eyes widen at your words, groaning as Kie laughs, swinging her leg over his head, straddling his face, pushing her pussy down onto his mouth, facing you, meeting your lips in a messy kiss.
You finally sink down onto JJ’s cock after teasing him until he was twitching, hips desperately thrusting off the bed, whining into Kie’s dripping cunt. Your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch, feeling his tip nudge that spot inside you that has you reeling. You fuck yourself on his dick, circling your hips just right, grinding down hard.
You don’t know how long it goes on, party probably over and done by now — JJ lying there while you and Kie take turns riding him, using his dick to get yourselves off. And then his mouth. And then his dick again. JJ takes it. Oh he fucking takes it, groaning into your pussy as he feels Kie clench around him, milking him as he comes deep inside her.
The three of you lie there, a mess of limbs and sweat, completely fucked out. You hear someone banging on the door, telling you to get the fuck out. You can barely care when you’re this blissed out, watching your best friends kiss slow and soft before leaning in to kiss them yourself.
Yeah, you were definitely doing this again.
read my other works here: masterlist
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synopsis: the fourth of july shift was a mess, both your situationships are a mess, and you somehow find comfort in your friend.
word count: 1.3k
a/n: I'm not sure if it qualifies as a blurb, a drabble, or something else? it's also my first time writing about Trinity, or a woman in general.
I hope you still enjoy this short whatever that came to my mind while I was daydreaming at work hahaha
Tell me what you thought in the comments or in my inbox!
credits for dividers: red ribbon, red lace
navigation | masterlist
The Fourth of July shift had gone to shit the second day shift walked in. What should have been a routine handoff and a basic summer day had turned into twelve hours of pure chaos. It wasn't unusual for summer shifts to be chaotic, but it had been chaotic on a whole other level. Personal problems and professional disasters tangled together, making everyone a mess while having to deal with a technological shutdown and a constant flow of patients bursting through the doors.
Santos was blown off by Garcia and Al Hashimi was up her ass about her delay in doing her charts, Robby kept being a dick to Mohan for some reason, Emma got assaulted by a patient on her very first day, Whitaker got a $250 overcharge on Uber because he tried to be kind to an old lady who turned out to be a racist bitch and Jesse got arrested by ICE for standing up for a patient.
By the end of the longest shift you've ever had since Pittsfest, everyone was hanging on by a thread.
You weren't an exception to the rule.
Some of your colleagues went to look at the fireworks on the roof of PTMC, but Mel, Santos and you ended up at a karaoke bar. It was one of those dingy, hole-in-the-wall places with sticky floors, dim lights, torn posters and just enough alcohol to take the edge off.
Trinity had claimed the head of the booth like she owned it, while you and Mel sat on either side of her.
"You know what? Fuck them!" Trinity said, banging her glass down on the table. "Fuck them all!" she slurred.
"Fuck Garcia, fuck Robby, fuck Langdon." Trinity continued before taking a swing of her beer. "And Fuck ICE!"
"Yeah!" Mel chimed in a bit awkwardly, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"Robby's not that bad…" you muttered, playing with your cup.
Trinity snorted. "You only say that because you're fucking him." She leaned back, squinting at you. "Dick's so good you forget what an ass he is?"
"Dr.Robby is a good mentor," Mel started carefully, looking between the two of you. "But he has been rude."
You pressed your lips together.
Because yeah, he had.
You'd seen it all. The sharp tone, the impatience, the way he shut down some of your colleagues. He had been permanently on edge, one wrong word away from snapping at whoever was unlucky enough to be around him at the moment.
But you had also seen him when no one else did. The quiet moments where he couldn't hide the cracks, the glossiness of his eyes when he talked about his sabbatical and the way he observed the ED with concern.
"Yeah," you sighed, bringing your glass to your lips.
"But what about Langdon, though?" you added, not wanting to dwell too long on the topic of Robby.
Mel shifted in her seat, glancing your way.
"Um…Nothing much." She answered a little too quickly.
"Come on, don't lie," Trinity cut in.
"Man's been flirting with her nonstop, but he's still married."
You blinked in surprise.
"What?"
"Yeah!" Trinity continued, rolling her eyes. "Something about staying together for their kids, but he follows after Mel like a lovesick puppy."
"It's not like that…" Mel tried, crunching her nose.
Despite Mel trying to play it off, you could see the hurt in her eyes. She might be trying to deny or to hide, but it was written all over her face. The disappointment, the hope she was trying to bury, the hurt she was pretending wasn't there but also the shame that came with being interested in a married man (even if his marriage was on the verge of collapsing.)
"Oh, Mel…"
"It's okay," she smiled wryly. "He doesn't owe me anything."
She looked down at her glass, tracing the rim. "We're just…coworkers."
There was a second of silence before Trinity slapped her hands on the table, making the two of you jump in surprise.
"Nope!"
She grabbed the both of you and dragged you to the stage.
"We're not here to spend the rest of the night feeling sorry for ourselves."
You smiled brightly as you were dragged to the stage, sharing a look with Mel as the first notes of 'You Oughta Know' by Alanis Morissette began playing. A laugh escaped Mel as she grabbed a mic and Trinity another. You smiled and shook your head fondly before grabbing a mic as well.
You weren't entirely sure how you ended up here.
Somewhere between the dingy karaoke bar and the next place Trinity insisted on dragging you to after Mel left, the night had blurred together. The cocktails she kept sliding in your hand certainly hadn't helped.
"Come on, the night's still young!" she'd say.
Music rang loudly through the bar, blasting out of speakers you were standing not too far from, and the room was packed with people. The movement of the crowd pushed you closer and closer until there was barely any space between you two. The July heat was already unbearable, but the temperatures were even higher right now—or was it because of her body pressing against yours?
Trinity laughed at something you said, her head tipping back for a second and a huge smile you rarely saw spread on her face.
You remembered thinking: "God, she's so pretty."
And she was.
She looked mesmerising.
She had the kind of smile that was never quite the same but still as pretty no matter what. Sometimes it was cocky and confident, sometimes it was sarcastic and teasing, and some other times it could be quieter. Tonight, she looked carefree and relaxed in a way you'd never seen her.
The coloured lights from the dance floor swept across her face, dim and hazy. Blue melted into purple, purple into a warm gold, and each colour change made her look even more unreal.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it was exhaustion.
Or maybe you were just seeing her in a new light.
Whatever it was didn't matter, did it? All you could think about in this moment was her and the endless possibilities the night could offer you.
The noise of the bar faded into the background. People danced around you and brushed against you, glasses clinked, and someone laughed too loudly, but it all sounded distant.
It felt like everything was slowing down, and without realising it, you stopped dancing. Trinity noticed almost immediately, glancing up at you.
You didn't know what she saw when she looked at you, but you saw her eyes drop to your lips.
The distance between the two of you disappeared before you realised. You wouldn't be able to say who closed it first.
The kiss was clumsy at first, both of you letting out a laugh when your teeth bumped together, but neither of you pulled away.
One thing led to the other, and there you were, pressed against the front door of the apartment Trinity shared with Whitaker.
The city was still as loud as ever, some fireworks were still cracking in the distance, and the occasional sound of a siren resonated, but all you could focus on was Trinity.
Trinity, Trinity, Trinity.
Her hands rested on your hips as she kissed you, and she had to stand onto her tiptoes to stay close, her whole body leaning into yours.
Your hand had slipped around your waist, exploring the skin under her shirt while your other hand settled at the nape of her neck.
After a moment, she pulled back just enough to catch her breath. Her forehead rested against yours, and you feel the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
"This isn't how I imagined my night going." she murmured, her breath brushing against your lips as she spoke.
She looked back into your eyes, sending chill down your skin.
"But I can't say I'm mad about it."
You moved your hand from her neck to cup her cheek, pulling away just enough to look at her.
"Me neither."
Your thumb brushed gently across her skin, admiring her in silence. Trinity stared back at you, eyes searching your face before she spoke again.
"Wanna come up?"
You couldn't help the smile that spread on your lips.
Summary: The Team finds out Bob is married and wants to meet the missus.
Warnings: Reader is described very similarly to Rhea Ripley, Reader and Bob are very much in love, No mention of Y/N used, Southern Reader (she's like all southern ladies sweet like iced tea, but can knock you on your ass if she has too), Express mentions of reader and Bob's Child, Lemme know if I missed any.
Word Count: 1.2K
Notes: This will be the final part of this series for now. I'm not sure how I want to continue the story. I hope everyone enjoys! If you have any requests, mine are open, and I will try to get to them. Enjoy!!
Everyone had started making their plates for lunch as you and Bob started to sort through what everyone brought. Nat brought hard seltzers and brownies. Payback brought a salad and a variety of dressings, and Sprite. Fanboy brought some homemade salsa and tres leches cake, along with some Mexican Cokes. Coyote brought oven-baked Mac ‘n cheese and fruit salad. Hangman brought ribs, banana pudding, and beer. Maverick, Penny, and Amelia brought a nice bottle of wine and sparkling grape juice for the girls so they wouldn’t feel left out later. Rooster brought sugar cookies from the grocery store and various snack foods.
After finishing sorting the rest of the food and drinks, Bob goes to help Riley make her plate, and you move to turn music on, the first song being Pink Floyd’s ‘Time’ from the Dark Side of the Moon album. Before moving back into the kitchen to make you a plate, grab some ribs, smoked sausage, mac and cheese, corn on the cob, chips, and ranch dip before heading out to the back patio.
Everyone had lots of food on their plates and had started eating before you had sat down. “This is some bomb food, Mrs. Floyd. I mean, I knew the food you made was good from how Bob’s always melting into his seat at lunch, but this is on a whole other level.” Fanboy said as he took a bite out of his burger.
“Thank you, Mickey,” you say as you start to eat food off your plate.
“So, I know everyone wants to know, how did you two meet?” Hangman asked as he looked between you and Bob.
“Well, it's kind of silly.” You say, making eye contact with Bob as you move to take a sip of your drink.
“It was back when I still rode broncos in rodeos. After I graduated from high school and before I enlisted in the Navy.” He said, picking at his food.
“Wait, you actually rode broncos?” Coyote asked, his face showing his disbelief.
“Hell yes he did, damn good at it too.” You exclaim as you scoop up some mac and cheese onto your fork. “That rodeo buckle I wore the first night at the hard deck was the one he got the night we met.”
Hangman looked so surprised, “You won at a rodeo? I’ve been to many a rodeo; those broncos are brutal.”
“I’d been riding my whole life, I was raised on a ranch, you know,” Bob said, turning to wipe some food off Riley’s face.
“Wait, what were you doing at the rodeo?” Maverick asked as he looked at you.
“I was there looking for work. I needed a job after high school, and I’d been going to and from ranches for as long as I could remember, so it was almost a no-brainer to try and get a job that dealt with livestock.” Turning to look at Bob, you continue to speak. “My grandparents had horses when my mama was growing up; she had always ridden, and even though we didn’t live in a rural area. I was taught when I was younger, and often spent time in the barns tending the animals.”
“I saw her when she was riding one of the mechanical bulls there -” “I’d never ridden a real bull, mind you.” You interjected as Bob mentioned the mechanical bull.
“Anyway, she was the only one who could stay on longer than anybody else. She was intimidating as shit back then.”
“NO, well, yes, you are still very intimidating,” Bob fumbled as he looked from Phoenix to you. He smiled at you before continuing with the story.
“I’d never seen anybody like her before. All the women in my life, while very strong in their own ways, were always soft in comparison to my wife. None of the girls I went to school with wanted to deal with hard labour, they would rather watcha movie, paint their nails, or do their hair and makeup.” He said, looking at you with adoration.
“Granted, I didn’t want to do that forever, example A, my life now,” You say, gesturing around you to your house and towards Riley.
“She was beautiful, and as she mentioned, looking for work. My dad hired her to help out on the ranch. We met her first day when I walked up on her changing into her work clothes behind our barn.” He huffed a laugh at the memory.
“We worked together for months before I worked up the nerve to ask her out. Then I enlisted in the Navy, and she went back to her hometown for college,” he said before shoveling some food into his mouth.
“We wrote letters to each other like total dorks and met up frequently while he was on leave. When we found out I was pregnant with Riley, we got married, and he took a few months off to help me with Riley after she was born, and then he got stationed at Lemoore, and we lived out there until we came here for the special detachment.” You say, looking around at everyone, and then your gaze landed on Riley.
“Wait, so Bob, did you marry your first love?” Payback asked.
“No, I’d dated other people during high school,” Bob answered like that was obvious.
“What about you, Mrs. Floyd?” Penny asked as she spoke up.
“Me? No, actually, when we first met,” you start pointing between yourself and Bob, “I was at that rodeo with my girlfriend. We broke up shortly after I started working at the Floyd family ranch.” You say with a deadpan expression on your face. A few members of the squad looked shocked at your mentioning of a girlfriend, namely Payback and Coyote.
Rooster just huffed out through his nose, “I knew you were fruity somehow.” He said, pointing at you.
“You don’t get to call anybody fruity while you and Hangman dance around each other the way you have been, for as long as I’ve heard about you.” You point your fork at him with an eyebrow raised. Rooster raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Whoa, what did I do? I haven’t said anything.” Hangman asked, giving a brief glare in Rooster's direction, for somehow bringing the attention to their situation. You just gave him a pointed look.
“Mama?” Riley came to stand in front of you. “Can I have some dessert? And can Amelia and I go play games in the living room after?” She asks, her eyes were big, and she was giving you that look that you cannot deny.
“Sure, Bug, what do you want?” You ask as you stand and pick her up as you walk into the house. Yours and hers conversation fades out as you go inside.
Amelia went inside briefly after you and Riley. She had a vague idea as to what the team was going to start pestering Bob about and didn’t feel inclined to listen.
“So you got her pregnant before you married her?” Fanboy wiggled his eyebrows at Bob as he asked what everyone was thinking.
“Okay, do not say it like that, we were planning on having a kid, and we were both prepared for everything that could happen, plus it’s not like we had her when we were teenagers. We just so happened to have her before we got married.” Bob explained after sighing like his friends were his kids instead of his child, who was with you getting dessert inside.
