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Your flexibility has gotten a lot better over the past two weeks. All thanks to your yoga instructor, Jack Abbot.
“Feel that?”
“The blood rushing to my head?”
Jack’s playful scoff bounces off the walls, and throughout the humid room. The bold 95° blinking on the thermostat almost made you run back to your car, however, Jack’s voice stopped and forced you to follow his command.
So you’re here. Half naked in spandex shorts that stop under the curve of your ass. Breathing heavily as Jack guides you into positions that threaten your knees to give out.
“Not that, your hamstrings.”
To solidify his words, Jack’s fingers gently trace over the back of your thighs, starting from the back of your knees to the end of your shorts. His touch makes you suck in a short breath and suddenly the blood that pools in your head is the least of your problems. Now, it’s the throb between your legs.
“I-Yeah, I feel it.”
Your stutter signals that it’s time to wrap up your private lesson and Jack mumbles the finishing pose, child’s pose. With your sweaty forehead pressed against your mat, you miss the way Jack readjusts himself in his shorts. Instead, you focus on your breathing and pray the throb between your legs goes away.
“You did amazing.”
The praise immediately feeds the heat that prickles your skin, and has your legs crossing. Your lips lift with a smile,“You think so?”
Jack nods.
“I’m heading to the sauna, if you want to join me.”
Your brows raise with surprise, like they're trying to touch your hairline.
“That wasn’t hot enough for you?”
Your genuine question makes Jack laugh as he walks away, his fingers catch the end of his shirt before pulling it off his chest. With a look over his shoulder he playfully says, “I’ll show you how hot it gets.”
Whether he meant them with ill intentions or not, you follow Jack into the sauna. Instantly, your nostrils sting from the hot air. The heat in the studio seems like child’s play compared to the heat in the sauna. A couple minutes in, your shirt clings to your skin, and you’re scared to move an inch because you know there’ll be a sweat stain.
“Focus on your breathing, try not to think of the heat.”
Without trying, your breathing syncs with Jack’s.
His chest rises at the same time as yours. His lips part and exhale hot air, the same as yours. And his skin glistens with sweat, just like yours. Shamelessly, your eyes trail over every inch of his skin, and your eyes jump from freckle to freckle. Your stare makes Jack’s skin flush with another wave of heat, almost like you sprayed water on the stones next to him.
“It’s hot in here.”
His words pull you out of your trance, “Thought you said to ignore the heat?”
Hungry eyes meet his, then widen when he stretches his arms behind his head. His fingers lace together and give you the perfect view of his armpits. Without wasting a second, your eyes trail over his bulging biceps and land on his armpits.
His sweaty hair sticks to his skin, and his musk fills the enclosed space straightaway. The breath you take is big enough to make him think your lungs are starving.
can i req a the pitt women smau... something along the lines of reader sending a flirty (or freaky..) text whilst they're working tg or in the same room etc... i love ur smaus sm
Trinity Santos I just know she’s good with her mouth. Something about ‘you have a lot to say, why not put that mouth to good use?’ Spending the night at her place and she is eating your pussy like a woman starved. She’s so drunk off your pussy and entranced by the sounds you’re making that she starts grinding down onto the bed, desperately trying to get herself off. After all is said and done she kisses you and just says ‘is that a good enough use for you?’
Samira Mohan is definitely a dead center switch. Truly depending on the day, she will either be under you as you fuck her nice and deep with your strap. Maybe even having you eat her pussy till she cries. Or she’ll have you face down ass up, fucking you through multiple orgasms until she is satisfied. She’d reach around and rub your clit too just to overstim you even more. She loves the noises you make but making you cum and you practically scream as it rips through you? That’s something special for her.
Cassie McKay I just know can degrade you and praise you seamlessly. ‘God, you’re such a slut for me baby. Only for me.’ If she gets off of a long shift but still wants to fuck you though, she’s doing it in the most efficient way possible. You will either be riding her or you guys are fucking while spooning. Her body hurts after her long shift and she’ll be damned if she has to stand for a second longer. Rightfully so, but if you want her to she will.
Parker Ellis is definitely a no nonsense type of person. If you have an attitude she will call you out on it. ‘Fix your attitude or I’ll fix it for you.’ And oh god does she. She’s got you folded up in the bed driving her cock into you so deep that you might have to the ER to check if you have a bruised cervix. ‘You were talking all those shit earlier, where is it now hmm?’ You cant say anything, hell you can’t even think! And she’s not stopping until she believes you’ve been dealt with.
Baran Al-Hashimi is gentle until she, well, isn’t. Much like Parker, she too has her limits but doesn’t have as short of a fuse. ‘You’re really testing my patience angel’ and she won’t tell you when she’s finally had enough. Not until you’re both home and she pulls you over her lap and fingers you until you cum over and over again. Until it’s dripping down her leg. Whenever she’s done with you she’ll make you suck on her fingers and then give you a stern talking to so you understand why she did what she did. Even though you both know it’s falling on deaf ears.
Mel King doesn’t have a super high sex drive. Like if you wanted to fuck then she’d fuck you yes, but, she doesn’t need it reciprocated. Though when she is horny, be prepared to be at it for ours. This is all pent up tension that’s been building since the last time y’all had sex. ‘God I’ve been needing this for so long.’ You’ll just be laying there as she rides your face, using you like a toy while you rub your clit. She’d be a fan of a double ended dildo, especially when you guys are opposite each other and she can watch as each thrust she does drives it deeper inside you. Or being able to see your creamy pussy leave a ring around it.
Dana Evans I think would be one to want her pussy ate while she talks about how stressful her day was. She’s going on and on about different incident, rude patients, rude coworkers. Whether you’re in the same field or not you’ll know a lot after this. ‘And then had the fu- shit baby right there- fucking nerve to abandon a baby in the bathroom.’ Once she gets a good 2-3 orgasms she’ll give you a kiss and then go out for a smoke before taking care of you too.
A/n: I’ll be completely honest I was thinking with my dick (spiritually) and this came out of it. I hope you guys like it!
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Hiiii ! If you’re open to it I have a cassie mckay x f!reader fic idea !! Basically there’s a snow storm so everyone is trapped inside the hospital. Cassie and reader have been a little flirty and touchy with each other but haven’t admitted their feelings. Sometime during the snow storm Parker Ellis (she’s underrated af) interacts with reader making Cassie jealous which will then lead to their feelings surfacing. At the end there could be smut with Cassie and reader trying to find a place to go and having to keep quiet >.< ♡
Cassie McKay x female!reader
word count: 1,064
summary: After Parker Ellis flirts with the reader, Dr. Cassie McKay takes action to prevent such incidents from recurring.
warnings: age gap implied (r is in their early 20s, Cassie McKay is in her early 40s), gets a little hot and heavy towards the end (clit rubbing, r receiving)
Snow densely blanketed the ambulance bay, icicles shaping above your head as you rested against the PTMC walls. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to stay warm. Today has been nothing short of stressful. Your patient load has been multiplied, your boss was hounding you, and the lack of sleep from the night prior was finally catching up to you. Wiping your eyes with your fists, you exhaled a deep sigh that you had been subconsciously holding in, completely unaware of your coworker, Dr. Parker Ellis, walking up to your right-hand side. “Hey,” she said casually, snapping you out of your head.
“Oh, hey,” you greeted her. You were quite fond of Parker Ellis. You thought that she was a beautiful person inside and out. But you’ve never had a crush on her per se. The one you had a crush on wasn’t even in your vicinity. She was probably inside being kept warm by her hoodie as she worked with her patients. “It’s been a long day,” you told Parker, kicking at the snow with your UGG-covered foot. “ Like exceptionally long,” you added, watching as the snow piled up on your foot the more you kicked. 
Parker shook her head in agreement with you. “ Tell me about it.” she said. “But hey, at least you look cute.” she told you confidently, flashing a big grin your way. Your cheeks turned beet red, and you became flustered. You didn’t know what to say. Parker was your friend, and she was also a naturally flirty person. Maybe she was just teasing you? Before you could respond to what she had said, a familiar voice rang out through the ambulance bay. 
“Working hard or hardly working, ladies?” Cassie asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she cautiously walked through the snow towards the two of you. Parker chuckled, shaking her head as she shifted on her feet. You pushed yourself off of the wall that you were standing against and straightened up your eyes, finding contact with Cassie‘s. “You know what would be really cute, Dr. Ellis? if you went and helped Dr. Shen with that utensils patient.” Cassie told Parker, her tone flat.
Parker took a look at you before nodding her head. “I’m on it, Dr. McKay .” she said, waving goodbye to you before returning indoors. Quickly, you stepped closer to Cassie, your arms grazing.
“Did you really have to do that?” you asked Cassie, your eyes scanning her face for remorse. “We were just taking a quick break. Is that not allowed anymore?” you asked sarcastically, your eyebrows rising a little, your arms now crossed over your own chest. 
Cassie sighed, rolling her eyes at you, her arms slackened. “ She… She called you cute.” she eventually said, her eyes dodging contact with yours. “She was flirting with you.” Cassie pointed out. You shrugged your shoulders, uncrossing your arms, relaxing your posture. 
“So that’s what this is about? You’re jealous.” You said, a smug smirk emerging on your face. You’d known that Cassie and you shared a mutual fondness for one another. The stealthy gazes during a fast-moving shift, the light caresses and strokes on your forearm or on her back as you two moved around the emergency department, and the unquestionable smitten expression on either of your faces when you’d interact. It was a no-brainer that you two had to crush on each other.
Cassie remained silent. Gazing at you tenderly. She stepped closer, closing the gap between you two before embracing you. Taken by surprise, you didn’t have time to react, especially when Cassie kissed you on the lips fervently. You withdrew from her arms, trembling slightly due to the cold weather, before leaning back in, reconnecting your lips with hers. “Yeah, I’m fucking jealous,” Cassie eventually said.
“Well,” you started to say. “You don’t have to be. I’m all yours.” You told Cassie confidently, clasping your arms around her torso. You recoiled when you felt Cassie‘s fingers delve into the waistband of your scrubs. “Cassie!” you squealed. “Not here.” You told her, taking a look around, making sure that no one saw. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Cassie apologized, raising her hands so that they were in the air. “Uhhh, meet me in the nearest family room in five minutes. Knock four times.” She instructed you before stepping back inside the emergency department. Nodding your head, you agreed, watching as she made her way inside. 
After five minutes and knocking four times on two wrong doors, you finally found Cassie. She yanked you by your arm into the room, locking the door behind you. “C’mere,” she instructed, her fingers diligently pulling at your badge reel as you walked closer to her, filling in the gap between you two. Quickly, Cassie‘s hands were raising your scrub top, exposing your breasts. Gripping at either of your tits, Cassie exhaled deeply through her nose, her eyes heavy. 
You involuntarily spread your legs standing shoulder-width apart as Cassie‘s fingers found their way back to the waistband of your scrub bottoms. Slowly, she pushed them further and further into your pants until her fingers were within your panties. Skimming your drenched Cunt. You let out a little whimper, earning a sharp look from Cassie. “Shhhh, if you can’t keep quiet, then we stop,” she warned you.
Nodding your head rapidly, you pressed your lips together, keeping as quiet as you possibly could while Cassie’s fingertips worked on your clit, massaging light circles into the sensitive bud, your slick collecting on Cassie‘s fingers. “God, you’re just so wet for me.” Cassie murmured, speeding up her action, eager to make you cum. “C’mon baby, cum for me, hmm?” she whispered directly into your ear, pressing her breasts against yours. 
A strained moan escaped from your throat as your orgasm began to wash over you. Your clit started to throb beneath Cassie’s touch, becoming overly sensitive, your legs trembling. Cassie cooed as you rode out your high; she removed her hand from within your pants once you were finished. Licking her fingertips, she tasted you before pressing the back of her hand to your flushed cheek. “Back to work, baby.” was all she said to you before kissing you on your lips and unlocking the door, leaving you to clean yourself up before returning to your shift. 
touch starved reader finally getting physical contact from cassie
that’s it
that’s the thought
i’ll be 22 in september and i haven’t been in a relationship since i was 19 so i’m very touch starved lol. i think about both me cassie being touch starved a lot 😔</3
imagine starting off platonic, and cassie comforting you after a hard shift. she’s not used to physical contact either—with the exception of harrison—so she needs it just as bad as you ૮◞ ‸ ◟ ა cassie pulling you aside after you’re off the clock, just talking to you about her day which eventually makes you feel comfortable enough to vent. it ends in you doing your best to fight back tears. it hurts cassie’s heart to see you in pain like this. with sad, emphatic puppy eyes, she tilts her head at you (like how she did to my good friend victoria javadi in that one scene iykyk). then she pulls you in a hug, taking you by surprise and even cassie. you’re stiff at first, but quickly melt into her touch and reciprocate her embrace. your whole body radiates with warmth and comfort as cassie holds you, gently scratching her nails on your back. it’s in that moment that you start crushing on her.
going forward, cassie will find any excuse to touch you. when she passes you a tool, her touch lingers longer than necessary. she’ll purposefully pass behind you just so she can place a hand on the small of your back or so her hands can ghost your waist. cassie knows she probably looks like a fool, she sure feels like one, but she starts to high-five you after successful procedures. she gets second hand embarrassment from her own actions, but she loves the way your face lights up every time. she can’t pass up a chance to get to feel your hand on hers, sometimes squeezing it adoringly.
she finally gets the courage to ask you out after a patient asks her out. cassie politely declined, though she was disgusted by the thought. it was then that she realized she could only see herself being with intimate with someone she truly liked, and that someone was you, your name never leaving her mind. you accepted happily of course, already smitten. leading up to your first date, cassie touches you more intentionally. she’ll linger way longer than necessary when your fingers brush. she squeezes your arm affectionately more often than before. once, when you were charting, cassie gave you a completely unprompted shoulder massage. her small touches made you more giddy than you already were, and she absolutely loved it.
when you finally kiss for the first time, it’s so soft and tender and full of love— even if you guys haven’t said it to each other yet. as your relationship blossoms, you both grow very physically affectionate. at work you’ll sneak subtle touches and will act all coupley when you get a moment alone.
one day you’re in the break room, pouring yourself your second cup of coffee. you hear the door open, but don’t check to see who it is since you’re making sure not to spill. as you’re putting the pot back, you suddenly feel arms snaking around your stomach, startling you. you’re met with cassie’s grounding touch and the familiar woodsy vanilla scent of her, mixed with antiseptic from the hospital. she presses a kiss to your shoulder, and your hands find hers, covering them. her hold on you is tight yet tender. affectionately, she nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, her face and nose tickling you. you giggle as cassie smothers you with kisses from behind. but then the door swings open…
dana walks in, followed by trinity. you and cassie jump apart right away, trying to save face. no one at work knows you’re dating. it’s something you both would prefer to keep private, especially because it’s a fresh relationship and you’re coworkers. dana smirks, an amused grin spreading across trinity’s face as she crosses her arms.
“hello, there,” dana greets, her boston accent adding some intentional sass to her tone.
“hi,” you reply, immediately turning to the abandoned mug of coffee you poured for yourself before cassie came in.
“hey,” cassie says, then pressing her lips together into a thin smile as she nervously straightens out her scrubs top.
“i just came to grab a monster,” trinity tells you and cassie as she strides over to the fridge.
“and i’m just here for a cup of joe,” dana says, walking over to where you’re standing by the coffee machine.
you step aside, the ceramic mug in hand, so dana can pour herself a cup. “me too,” you say before taking a sip of the warm, brown, much needed caffeinated liquid.
“mm,” dana hums in response as she grabs a mug from a cabinet. the room is silent now, making you a little uneasy.
“see ya later,” trinity tells you all after she grabs a monster energy drink, breaking the silence and walking to the door. “and by the way…” she says, spinning around on her heels before she leaves the break room, “you guys make a hot couple by the way. it’s always fun when one of you comes in with a badly covered hickey you think isn’t noticeable!”
you nearly choke on your coffee at trinity’s words, the way she says it so casual. cassie’s eyes widen and her face flushes. like she’s drawn to you, she unconsciously takes a step closer to you. dana finishes pouring her cup of coffee, the tan mug full to the brim. she brings it to her lips and takes a sip, then looking at you and cassie with a smile toying on her face.
“i’ll see you two lovebirds later,” dana says with a wink. she then turns around to exit the break room. as she opens the door, without looking back, she shouts, “as you were!”
mortified, you turn to cassie. she has that same shell-shocked look on her face. “oh my god,” you whisper, stepping closer to cassie. she does the same, closing the distance. “that-that was…”
“weird?” cassie finishes for you, a small smile meant to reassure you appearing. you wrap your arms around cassie’s waist while she brings hers up to your neck. she wraps one arm around you, and the other finds the back of your head, using her fingers to gently massage the top of your neck. “predictable?” cassie adds.
“unsurprisingly surprising? very fucking annoying?”
you chuckle and nod. “all of the above.” cassie kisses you then, just a quick peck. when she pulls away, you drop your head to her shoulder, your grip on her waist tight. habitually, cassie slowly sways side to side, soothingly rubbing your back as she does. she presses a doting kiss on the top of your head, work on the back burner of your minds’. it’s just you two right now.
thinking about how important it is to have physical contact during sex 🥺😵💫 cassie loves to have her hands on you, her body flush against yours. she makes sure every part of you feels love and always holds you close— even when she’s fucking you until you’re dizzy and spent. afterwards, cassie keeps her sweaty body in contact with yours. there hasn’t been a single time where you don’t cuddle after sex. you lay on top of her or vise versa. you’ll drape a leg over her and rest your head on her chest. one of your favorites is spooning. usually, cassie is the big spoon, but you switch it up (she won’t admit it but she secretly loves being the little spoon). sometimes you’ll face each other on your sides, your arms wrapped around one another and your head dipped down onto cassie’s chest, or she will rest her head on your shoulder. cassie loves it when you put your head on her soft belly, she’ll run her fingers through your hair and admire your side profile. she’s big on snuggling… specifically you.
as you grow together, physical affection becomes a constant in your relationship. you’re not used to being touched so much, but now it feels wrong without it. at home cassie’s always holding you in some way. in public she always has contact with you in some way. a hand on the small of your back. her arm around your waist. her fingers laced with yours. a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting. before you, cassie absolutely loathed pda, but now she finds herself guilty of it every now and then. it’s not her fault she can’t resist touching you, kissing you, caressing you, and holding you! she can’t resist you period. ♡
4 Times Trinity Flirted and You Didn't Realize + The One Time You Did
Trinity Santos x Autistic!psych!reader
Summary: Trinity Santos has been flirting with you for weeks, through coffee, compliments, rain-soaked conversations, and dinner deliveries, but you keep missing every cue. It isn’t until a quiet moment in the break room that everything finally clicks, leading to a direct confession, a kiss, and Trinity making sure there’s no room left for misunderstanding.
Authors note: This was a request that can be found here
1. The Coffee
The first time Trinity Santos flirted with you, she did it over a burnt cup of hospital coffee.
You were standing in the break room at 6:43 in the morning, half-awake, one hand wrapped around a mug, the other scrolling through patient notes on your tablet. The ED was already loud beyond the door. Monitors beeping, residents calling for labs, nurses moving with the sort of speed that made the whole place feel like a hive someone had shaken.
Trinity came in still tying her hair back, black scrubs wrinkled in that very specific I slept for three hours and woke up angry about it kind of way.
She stopped when she saw you.
“Wow,” she said.
You looked up immediately. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Your brow furrowed. “Is there something on my face?”
Trinity’s mouth twitched. “No.”
You lifted a hand to your cheek anyway, because people always said “nothing” when there was, in fact, something. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She moved past you toward the coffee machine. “You just look good in the morning.”
You blinked at her.
Then you looked down at yourself.
Your scrub top was slightly untucked. Your badge was twisted backward. Your hair had been put up in the dark and had mostly surrendered. There was a pen tucked behind your ear that you didn’t remember putting there.
“I look exhausted,” you said.
“Both can be true.”
You stared at her for another second, waiting for the joke to finish forming.
It didn’t.
So you nodded seriously.
“Thanks. You look tired too.”
Trinity paused with her hand on the coffee pot.
Slowly, she turned her head toward you.
You offered her a polite smile.
Her lips parted like she was going to say something, then closed again. She poured her coffee with the expression of someone deciding whether or not to walk into traffic.
“You’re killing me,” she muttered.
You looked back down at your tablet. “I can switch the coffee out if it tastes bad.”
Trinity stared at the back of your head for a full three seconds.
Then she laughed.
Not loudly. Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just this small, helpless thing that made her shoulders dip.
“No,” she said. “Coffee’s fine.”
You hummed, already reading again.
Behind you, Trinity leaned against the counter, watching you like you were a puzzle box with no visible seams.
“You’re really something,” she said.
“Thanks,” you answered automatically. “You too.”
She smiled into her mug.
You still had no idea.
2. The Scrub Cap
The second time, it was during a psych consult.
You’d been called down for a patient who was refusing treatment, paranoid and overstimulated from the chaos of the ED. Trinity was the resident assigned to the case, standing outside the room with her arms crossed, explaining the situation fast enough that most people would’ve missed half of it.
You didn’t.
You listened, nodded, asked two questions, and then went in.
Twenty minutes later, the patient was calmer, sitting on the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and a cup of water in her hands. Trinity watched you through the glass with something unreadable on her face.
When you came back out, she stepped aside to let you through.
“That was impressive,” she said.
You tapped something into the chart. “She needed less stimulation, not six people talking over each other.”
“Yeah, but you got her to trust you in, like, two minutes.”
“She was scared.”
Trinity tilted her head. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make it sound simple.”
“It was simple.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Trinity moved closer, voice lowering. “You’re just good.”
You glanced up.
There it was again. That look. Warm. Sharp. Like she’d found something she wanted to touch but knew better than to reach for in the hallway.
Your brain politely sorted it into professional compliment and moved on.
“Thank you,” you said. “You handled the clinical side well.”
Trinity blinked.
Then her eyes narrowed slightly, amused and offended all at once.
“You’re complimenting me back?”
“Yes?”
“Like this is peer review?”
You frowned. “Was I not supposed to?”
She huffed a laugh and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Okay. Let me make this easier.”
You looked at her fully now.
Trinity reached up and tugged at the edge of your scrub cap. It had slipped slightly, probably from you running your hand over your hair too many times.
“There,” she said, smoothing it into place. Her fingers lingered just long enough to be noticeable to anyone with a functioning sense of romance.
You did not have one of those.
You immediately touched the cap yourself.
“Oh. Was it crooked?”
Trinity’s hand dropped.
Her face went blank.
Then she looked away, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Yeah,” she said. “Terribly crooked. Medical emergency.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?”
“I did, in my own way.”
You nodded. “Thanks for fixing it.”
Trinity inhaled slowly through her nose.
“Anytime.”
And because you were you, you added, “It’s good to know you’re observant.”
Trinity stared at you.
Then she whispered, “Unbelievable.”
You smiled faintly, assuming she meant the patient case.
3. The Ambulance Bay
The third time was in the ambulance bay.
It was raining hard enough to turn the pavement silver. You’d gone outside for air after a difficult consult, the kind that left something heavy sitting behind your ribs. You weren’t crying. You weren’t even close.
You just needed the world to be quieter for two minutes.
Trinity found you anyway.
She always did that, somehow.
The door opened behind you and she stepped out, immediately making a face at the weather.
“Gross.”
“You can go back inside.”
“And leave you out here looking tragic and beautiful?” she asked. “No thanks.”
You glanced at her. “I don’t look tragic.”
“No. You do.”
You considered that.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Trinity looked at you like you’d just handed her a scalpel blade-first.
“No,” she said slowly. “That was not the part I expected you to question.”
You tucked your hands into your scrub pockets. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were about to.”
She smiled then, soft and lopsided. “Maybe I just wanted to stand next to you.”
That should have done it.
That should have clicked.
The rain. The quiet. The way Trinity had stepped close enough that your shoulders nearly touched. The way her voice gentled only when she spoke to you.
Instead, you glanced toward the parking lot.
“Are you avoiding someone?”
Trinity’s smile fell open into disbelief.
You kept going, because unfortunately, once you found a possible explanation, your brain liked to trot after it like a little hound.
“Because if you are, I can stand here longer. Make it seem like we’re discussing a patient.”
Trinity pressed her lips together.
Her eyes dropped to the ground.
For one strange second, you thought she might be upset.
Then she laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth.
You stared.
“What?”
She shook her head, rain catching in the loose pieces of hair near her face.
“Nothing. Nothing. You’re just…” She looked at you again, eyes bright. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m trying to be helpful.”
“That’s the problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
You frowned harder.
Trinity softened.
She reached out, carefully brushing a raindrop from the shoulder of your scrub top.
“Come back inside before you freeze.”
“I’m not cold.”
“You’re shivering.”
You looked down at your own arm.
You were, actually.
“Oh.”
Trinity’s smile returned, smaller this time.
“Yeah. Oh.”
She opened the door and held it for you.
You walked in first.
Behind you, Trinity murmured, “One day, I’m going to flirt with you so directly you’ll have no choice.”
You half-turned. “Did you say something?”
“Nope.”
4. The Dinner Invite
The fourth time, she brought food.
That was serious.
You were in your office with the lights dimmed, your shoes kicked off beneath the desk, and a stack of notes glaring at you from the screen. It was past the end of your shift. Technically, you could leave.
Realistically, the charting goblin had its claws in your ankle.
A knock sounded at the doorframe.
You looked up.
Trinity stood there holding two takeout bags.
“Are you busy?”
“Yes.”
She lifted the bags.
You paused.
“Less busy than I was.”
She grinned and came in like she’d won something.
You moved a pile of papers so she could put the food down. The smell hit first. Warm rice, grilled meat, garlic, something spicy enough to make your stomach wake up and file a formal request.
“You didn’t have to get me dinner,” you said.
“I know.”
You looked into one of the bags. “Did someone order too much?”
“No.”
“Did the restaurant mess up?”
“No.”
“Did a patient’s family bring this?”
Trinity stared at you.
“I bought you dinner.”
You looked up.
“Why?”
The question came out genuinely.
Trinity’s expression did something complicated. Amusement first. Then fondness. Then a little flicker of exasperation.
“Because I like feeding you.”
You absorbed that.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Still incorrectly.
“That’s very kind.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Kind.”
“Yes.”
“I brought you your favorite.”
“You know my favorite?”
“You get the same thing every time we order from there.”
“That’s pattern recognition.”
“That’s interest.”
You nodded. “Both can be true.”
Trinity dropped into the chair across from your desk and rubbed a hand over her face.
“I swear to God.”
“What?”
She looked at you through her fingers. “Do you think I bring dinner to everyone?”
You thought about it.
“You’re friends with Dennis.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“And Mel.”
She lowered her hand. “You are dodging the point so hard it’s becoming athletic.”
“I’m not dodging. I’m answering.”
“You’re not answering the right question.”
“What’s the right question?”
Trinity leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
Her voice softened.
“Why do you think I know your favorite order?”
You opened your mouth.
Closed it.
The answer that came first was practical. Because you worked together. Because she noticed things. Because doctors noticed patterns. Because residents learned people’s habits when they were sleep-deprived and trapped in the same building for too many hours.
But Trinity wasn’t looking at you like this was about sesame chicken.
She was looking at you like she had been standing at a door for weeks, knocking with flowers, fireworks, a brass band, and a handwritten sign, and you had kept asking if the noise was maintenance.
Your face warmed.
“I don’t know,” you said quietly.
Trinity’s gaze flicked across your face.
For once, she didn’t make a joke.
“Think about it,” she said.
Then she pushed one container toward you and picked up her chopsticks like she hadn’t just rewired half the room.
You did think about it.
For the entire meal.
For the rest of your charting.
For the drive home.
For two days after.
+1. The Time You Did
The time you finally noticed, Trinity wasn’t even trying.
That was the ridiculous part.
It was late again. Of course it was. The ED had been brutal all day, one long unraveling thread of chest pain, psych holds, trauma alerts, and family members crying into vending machine coffee.
You found Trinity sitting alone in the nearly empty break room, head tipped back against the cabinet, eyes closed.
For once, she looked truly tired.
Not cute-tired. Not Trinity-tired, with sarcasm sharpened and ready.
Just tired.
You stepped inside quietly.
“Hey.”
Her eyes opened.
The second she saw you, her face changed.
Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone else to catch.
But you did.
Her shoulders eased. Her mouth softened. Something guarded in her expression loosened, like her body had recognized you before she decided whether to allow it.
“Oh,” she said, voice rough. “Hey.”
Your stomach flipped.
Small.
Dangerous.
Warm.
You stood there with one hand still on the door.
And suddenly, all of it came back.
You look good in the morning.
You’re just good.
Maybe I just wanted to stand next to you.
I like feeding you.
Think about it.
You had thought about it.
Apparently your brain had needed to receive the evidence, organize it, mislabel it, archive it, retrieve it, then finally set it on fire.
Trinity rubbed at one eye. “You okay?”
You walked farther into the room.
“I think you’ve been flirting with me.”
Trinity went very still.
Then she sat up.
Slowly.
“Sorry?”
“You’ve been flirting with me,” you said again, more certain this time.
Her expression cracked.
A smile crept in at one corner of her mouth.
“Have I?”
You gave her a look. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you haven’t.”
Trinity leaned back in her chair, now far too pleased for someone who had been half-dead thirty seconds ago.
“I don’t know. This is a pretty serious accusation.”
“You told me I looked good in the morning.”
“You did.”
“I looked like I’d been dragged through a supply closet.”
“Still worked for me.”
Your face heated.
Trinity noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Her smile softened into something less smug and more careful.
“You finally caught up,” she said.
“I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Don’t be.” She shrugged, but the movement wasn’t casual enough to fool you. “It was kind of cute.”
“I thought you were just being nice.”
“I am nice.”
You stared at her.
She sighed. “Fine. Nice adjacent.”
You laughed before you could stop yourself.
Trinity’s face changed again.
That was when you really knew.
Not because she flirted. Not because she teased. Not because she brought you dinner or stood too close in the rain or looked at you like you were the only steady thing in a collapsing hospital.
Because when you laughed, Trinity looked relieved.
Like she’d been waiting to hear that sound all day.
Maybe longer.
You stepped closer.
Her eyes followed you.
“Are you flirting with me right now?” you asked.
“No,” she said.
You raised an eyebrow.
Trinity smiled.
“Now I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you to decide what you want to do about it.”
The room went quiet.
Beyond the door, the ED kept roaring. Phones ringing. Wheels squeaking. Someone calling for an attending. Life continuing in all its fluorescent chaos.
But inside the break room, everything narrowed down to Trinity Santos sitting in front of you, watching you with that impossible mix of patience and nerve.
You took another step.
Then another.
Her smile faded, but only because her lips parted slightly.
You stopped in front of her.
“I want you to flirt with me again,” you said.
Trinity’s eyes darkened with amusement.
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
“But more directly this time.”
She tilted her head back to look up at you.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I want to kiss you.”
Your breath caught.
There it was.
No room for misinterpretation.
No clinical loophole.
No colleague-shaped excuse to hide behind.
Just Trinity.
Just wanting.
Just you, finally understanding.
You swallowed.
“I noticed that one.”
Her smile returned.
“Good.”
Then she stood, slow enough for you to move away if you wanted.
You didn’t.
Her hand touched your waist first, careful and warm through the fabric of your scrubs. Your fingers curled lightly into the front of her scrub top, exactly where you’d wanted them for longer than you had allowed yourself to admit.
Trinity leaned in.
Paused.
Still giving you a way out.
You closed the distance yourself.
The kiss was soft at first. Almost questioning. Then Trinity made this small sound against your mouth, half relief and half finally, and you forgot every clever thing you had ever almost said.
When you pulled back, she stayed close, forehead nearly touching yours.
“You know,” she murmured, “for a psychiatrist, you are impressively bad at reading romantic cues.”
You breathed out a laugh. “In my defense, you’re very sarcastic and I’m very autistic.”
Trinity paused.
Then her expression softened so quickly it almost stole the air from the room.
“Okay,” she said, thumb brushing once over your waist. “Fair defense.”
“In my other defense, you’re very pretty and that makes your sarcasm harder to decode.”
Her grin came back slowly.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You flirting back.”
Your face warmed. “Was that flirting?”
“Baby,” Trinity said, delighted now, “that was practically a love letter.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.
“In my defense,” she added, “I bought you dinner.”
“I understand that now.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because I can do it again. For clarity.”
You smiled.
Trinity’s thumb swept once over your waist.
This time, you noticed.
This time, you leaned closer.
“Dinner sounds good,” you said. “But I think I need more evidence.”
Trinity’s grin turned slow.
Dangerous.
Delighted.
“Oh, I can provide evidence.”
And when she kissed you again, there was nothing subtle about it.
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baran guilt-fucking her much younger resident because it’s so, so wrong but you’re so, so beautiful, except she fantasizes about taking care of you and making you hers only to quite literally crumble in your arms. she’s all pathetic and wet after a slide of tongues in a heated kiss and every ounce of control flees her body. you recognize the surrender almost immediately and catch her in the fall, cupping her cheek and plainly whispering, “it’s okay to let go, baran.” baran trying to protest as you sink down to your knees and being all, “no, i’m—i’m supposed to be taking care of you,” and you don’t say a thing as you slip her panties down her hips and start to kiss up her thighs, tracing a tantalizing path to her core. “i’m a doctor, too, you know,” you hum between her legs. “and i have just the thing for you.” eating her out until she’s whimpering your name, all protests leaving her body as your mouth latches onto her clit. baran who seldom cusses in front of you, but lets out a whiny, “fuck, please, please, honey,” while you’re devouring her without reservation. slipping your fingers into her heat and feeling her clench around your digits, rocking her hips into your hand with every thrust. it’s nice to see her so shameless, to finally lose control, the one thing she’s been willing herself not to do since the day she met you. except it isn’t anything like her fantasies. no. it’s the opposite, but far fucking better. “yeah, you gonna cum for me? show me exactly who you belong to?” you groan out, aroused all the same from her noises. watching her squirt all over your shirt as she rides out her high, unable to give you more than her loud moans and little whines. not that it matters, because she sounds incredible either way. baran cupping your chin when she finally catches her breath, sighing in adoration as you nuzzle into the touch. “sweetheart, that was. . .” she paused and smiled down at you, albeit with obvious timidity, then, “i’m sorry about your shirt.” you just smile right back and say, “don’t be sorry. now can i do that again?”
cassie mckay who achieved body neutrality not long after she started med school. she learned how to accept every part of herself — even if she didn’t love every part yet. when she started dating you, however, she was creeping up to her mid 40’s and felt insecure and unattractive.
cassie mckay who was blown away by how loving you are. you make sure to verbally tell cassie how beautiful she is everyday. your compliments are always genuine, and they make her blush (we ♡ shy cassie over here). you love her head to toe, stretch marks, loose skin, wrinkles, and all!
cassie mckay who is absolutely obsessed with the way you’re obsessed with her soft belly. you love to affectionately squeeze her tummy, see it peeking out of a shirt, nap on it, kiss it, feel it beneath your warm palms, and most of all, to ride it.
cassie mckay who loves to see you on top of her, grinding your clit against her plush stomach. she grips your hips tightly, helping you move when she can tell you’re close. the soft skin jiggles with your movements, the sight of cassie under you like this making your head dizzy.
cassie mckay who likes to tease you from time to time. she’ll make you kiss and suck on her belly before she lets you taste or ride her. if you want to eat her out, cassie will make you “warm-up” and “practice” on her stomach, leaving hickeys on her plump skin. if you want to ride her tummy, she’ll make you do the same, your tongue mapping out every inch and trailing up and down her wispy happy trail. cassie finds it so hot to watch you get off with your slick pussy on her stomach, your spit already spread all over the round surface.
cassie mckay who grows to love her soft, pudgy belly because you do. the fact that you don’t just think it’s beautiful, but you also find it hot drives her crazy. she loves to feel desired by you, and you rarely have an off switch. sometimes after sex, you’ll collapse on top of her and rest your head on her stomach as she plays with your hair, eventually falling asleep. if cassie was on top, she’ll lay her body on top of yours, her adorable tummy flush against yours <33
i offer you baran al-hashimi who struggles with giving her partner space during an argument. who cannot just 'hit pause' and resume in thirty minutes. baran al-hashimi who thrives on clear, explicit communication, so when you keep saying "can we just put this aside for now" she is like "??? why???? don't you want to work this out????"
baran al-hashimi who needs to talk it all the way through in order to process it fully and get it resolved, otherwise she'll just walk around feeling off-kilter and still upset. baran al-hashimi who will keep presenting different angles of her argument when you're trying to take a breather because she wants to get it all out, not to put more stress on you or to make you feel guilty, but that's just how her brain works: put everything on the table so we can fix it!!!
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