Baran had been thinkin about it since she caught Dr. Abbot and Dr. Mohan in the supply closet that morning.
Thoughts that raised valid institutional concerns.
She found Trinity at the end of the north hallway and planted herself squarely in the woman's path.
"Can I ask you something?"
Trinity stopped. Tilted her head. "You're already asking."
"Why," Baran said, "is every attending in this department sleeping with a resident?"
Trinity looked delighted, like she found this extremely entertaining.
"Robby and Whitaker," Baran continued, because she had prepared points and she was going to make them. "Ellis and King. Abbot and Mohan. That's not a pattern, that's a—"
"Epidemic?" Trinity offered.
"I was going to say problem."
Trinity smiled. She took exactly one step closer, which was one step more than was strictly necessary.
"Why, do you want one for yourself, Dr. Al-Hashimi?"
Baran's prepared remarks evaporated completely.
"That's—" she started. "This is not—" she tried again. "I came here to raise a legitimate—"
Trinity was still smiling, watching her go absolutely nowhere with obvious pleasure.
Baran turned around and left. Walking in a direction she chose entirely based on it being away.
"My door's always open, boss," Trinity called after her.
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There's something so hot about the way someone says "god you're cute" when you do something silly and it's with the intention to completely ruin you. 😳
wanna be pinned between HER and any other surface tysm
cassie leaning forward + backing you up until you hit a surface which forces you on your back. she hovers, dropping down slowly like a predator instilling fear in its prey before attacking. cassie’s gold chain dangles above your face as she puts her hands on either side of your head. she then presses her body firmly onto yours, ensuring you can’t escape. cassie cages you with her body flush against yours 😵💫
if you’re on a table, cassie will part your legs with her knee so she can stand right up against your pussy. her hands beside your head may find your hips, tightly gripping you so you can’t squirm.
if you’re on the couch, cassie will straddle you, her thick thighs crushing your sides and aligning herself over you so her cunt is touching yours. she grinds her core against yours, you matching her movements as your hands claw desperately at her back.
if you’re on a bed, cassie will teasingly roll her hips hard against you, hitting your clit just right. with her body pressed right against yours, pinning you to the mattress, you jut your hips up for a little friction, barely having to move because of how close cassie is to you.
if you’re against a wall, cassie will hook one of your legs around her waist. a few minutes later, she’ll lift you up, both of your legs coming to wrap around her waist now as she pushes her body onto yours to the point where it makes it harder to breathe (although cassie always checks in to make sure you aren’t in pain).
whenever cassie holds you—cuddling, hugging, her front pressed against your back, your body leaning on hers as she grasps your waist, etc—she does so like you need her to hold you up. it’s tight and trapping yet so affectionate, and you love it just as much as she does 🙂↕️♡
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When you squirm away because it’s getting overwhelming, Sevika pulls you right back and fucks you harder.
She probably has been at this for hours. Her grunts mix with your moans and the bed creaks, almost as if it’s gonna fall apart any moment. Your wrists are cuffed and all you can do is lay there on your back and take her fat strap.
Sevika picked her favourite one for tonight—the big black strap with ridges and bumps that messed with your pussy walls in ways that left you tingly down there even after she was done using your holes. Your cunt drools like a fucking broken faucet. You can’t help how turned on you are.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet and tight. Y’are all mine. All fucking mine and I’ll make sure everyone knows that.”
She slams her hips against yours particularly harder than before making you gasp, making a tiny sound. At first, Sevika thinks she has hurt you, she pauses, eyes filled with momentary fear.
“T-too much, too good…” you whimper as your body squirms away, heels planted into the mattress as you move with everything left in your exhausted body.
Not because you want her to stop. You have your safe word for that. But because sometimes Sevika makes you feel so good there’s no way you can take her without kicking your limbs and moaning her name.
Something about the way you think you can get away makes Sevika chuckle, the sound deep and evil almost.
“You’re goin’ nowhere.” She grabs you by the waist and rams herself back inside, making you arch your back needily.
“Sevika—! Oh! Oh my gosh, yes!”
“Keep screaming, babydoll, and cum.” Sevika’s strap hits your g-spot, abusing it over and over, as she repeats in a breathy voice, “you’re goin’ nowhere.”
warnings : ex!wife!baran x fem!reader . transfem!baran . nsfw , mdni . fingering . handjob . pinv sex . creampie . nipple play . manipulative baran . baby trapping . praise/pet names . marking . jealous/possessive baran . emotional vulnerability . baran yearning .
wc : 6.2k
find the request here
you hear the knock and it pulls you out of the half-focused haze of cleaning up after dinner. your son’s upstairs, sleeping after a long day. you wipe your hands on the towel hanging off the oven handle and head to the door, not really thinking much of it. probably a package or one of the neighbors.
but when you pull it open, it’s baran. standing there under the porch light with your kid’s school bag dangling from her fingers.
“he forgot this,” she says, voice steady and low. she holds the bag up a little, letting it swing once. “after i dropped him off earlier. figured you’d be dealing with the meltdown tomorrow morning if he didn’t have it.”
you don’t say anything right away. just step back and let her come in because what else are you gonna do, leave her on the doorstep? probably should have. she brushes past, close enough that her sleeve catches yours for a second, and you catch her familiar smell - her shampoo, something simple and clean that always lingered on the pillows before. she sets the bag on the little bench by the door, adjusting it so it doesn’t fall over, then straightens up and glances around like she’s checking if anything’s changed since last time.
“thanks,” you manage, crossing your arms over your chest. the door clicks shut behind her and suddenly the entryway feels smaller. “he said you guys went to that thing after school. didn’t realize he left half his stuff.”
baran shrugs, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. her mouth twitch a little, not quite a smile but close. “kids. he’s been in his own world lately. he’s growing so fast.” she nods toward the living room. “you mind if i sit for a minute? it’s been a long drive.”
you hesitate, she doesn’t even live that far, but sure. you still nod. “yeah, sure.” you lead the way even though she knows the house better than anyone. the couch dips when she drops onto it, hands neatly folded in her lap. you perch on the armchair across from her, not quite ready to get too comfortable. “water? or something else?”
“water’s fine.” she watches you head to the kitchen, her eyes following, almost like she’s studying you and not really trying to hide it either. when you come back with the glass, she takes it and her fingers brush yours on purpose, lingering just long enough. “you look good. a little tired around the eyes maybe, but good.”
you snort and sit back down, pulling your legs up under you. “flattery now? after months of radio silence except for pickup schedules?”
she takes a sip, sets the glass on the coffee table carefully, like she doesn’t want to leave rings. “not flattery. just saying it.” her tone’s casual but there’s an edge underneath, like she’s thinking three steps ahead. “how’s he been with the math homework? you texted last week he was ready to throw the book out the window.”
you laugh a little despite yourself, relaxing into the chair. “yeah, he’s been fighting it. i tried helping but i swear the way they teach it now is different from when we were in school. he gets frustrated and shuts down. you know how he is.” you shrug one shoulder.
baran nods, listening like she actually cares. she always do that, always so focused. “he’s stubborn. gets it from both of us probably. maybe i can go over some stuff with him next time.” she pauses, eyes flicking to your face. “unless you want me to stay out of it. i don’t want to step on toes.”
“no, it’s fine,” you say, waving it off. “he likes when you help. asks about you sometimes, you know. still asks why you don’t live here anymore.” the words slip out heavier than you meant and you see her expression shift, something softer crossing her features before she covers it.
she leans forward a bit, elbows on her knees. “i’ve been thinking about that. a lot, actually.” her voice drops. “dropping him off, picking him up… i still see him every weekend but it’s not enough. this back and forth. i miss the everyday stuff. dinners where he’s arguing about vegetables. you scolding both of us when i let him get away with not eating his greens. i’m sorry my job keeps me so busy.”
you feel the pull in your chest, a familiar ache. “baran, we did the whole ‘let’s try to be friends for him’ thing.” you say, exaggerating it with your hands. “it didn’t exactly work out so well.” you say softer.
“i know.” she doesn’t push, just sits there watching you, patient as ever. her fingers scratch at her forearm, a small nervous habit you remember. “doesn’t mean i stopped missing it. missing you. being a family.” the last part comes out quieter, almost like she’s testing the water.
the room feels warmer suddenly. you stand up to grab a snack from the kitchen just to move, and she follows without asking, leaning against the counter while you pull out some chips. “want some?” you offer the bag.
she takes exactly one, crunching thoughtfully. “you finally stopped buying the cheap ones? they’re bad for you.”
“i know. you’ve told me plenty of times.” you lean on the opposite counter, facing her. the space between you isn’t much. “so what, you just happened to be in the neighborhood with his bag?”
baran chuckles, dry and low. “something like that. maybe i just wanted our son to have his bag for school. or maybe i wanted to see you. talk without the handoff rush.”
she pops another chip in her mouth, chewing slow, the crunch loud in the quiet kitchen. she tilts her head a little, like she’s thinking it over, hesitating for a beat longer than usual before the words come out. “you seeing anyone?”
the question lands blunt, straight to the point like she always is, but it still catches you off guard enough that you pause mid-reach for your water glass. you raise an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “that’s none of your business anymore, is it?”
“probably not,” she admits, but her eyes don’t leave yours, sparkly and steady, a focused look that makes it hard to look away. she sets the chip bag down, wiping her fingers on her jeans. “doesn’t stop me from wondering though. you’re bad at picking people who deserve you.”
you can tell she’s not over it. the way her jaw tightens just a fraction, the small shift in her posture. she heard about that one hookup from a mutual friend, probably weeks ago, and it’s clearly been sitting there under her skin. jealous in a subtle way.
you scoff and roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips anyway. you lightly shove her shoulder, your palm brushing the soft fabric of her sweater. “oh fuck off. i can take care of myself, you know.”
her hand catches your wrist before you can pull back fully, warm and steady, fingers wrapping easy around it. her thumb presses right against your pulse point, feeling the way it jumps under her touch. she doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there for a few seconds, like she’s grounding herself or maybe reminding you both of how easy this still feels. “didn’t say you couldn’t, i know you’re a big girl.” she says, voice low and dry, a hint of that smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “you deserve better than some half-assed rebound who doesn’t even know how you like… certain things.”
you snort, trying to ignore the way her thumb is still there, slow and deliberate, sending little sparks up your arm. “and what, you think you’re the expert on what i deserve? after everything?” you tug your wrist free but not hard, letting your fingers brush hers as you do. the kitchen feels smaller now, the space between you charged again.
baran shrugs, popping one more chip in her mouth but chewing slower this time, eyes still on you. “i do know better than other people, that’s just a fact. i pay attention.” she leans against the counter opposite you, casual but close enough that her knee bumps yours lightly. “so? was it worth it at least? or should i be glad it wasn’t that great?”
you shake your head, laughing under your breath. “it was whatever, nothing serious. just… filling time.” you meet her gaze, the tension thickening again. “happy now?”
she doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with patient attentiveness. her fingers flex where they rest on the counter, like she wants to reach out again but holds back. “not really,” she says finally, honest and quiet. “but i’ll take it.”
the air hangs there for a moment, heavy with everything unsaid, before she straightens up a little, changing the subject but not really letting it drop either.
you end up back on the couch eventually, talking about nothing heavy at first. how your son’s obsessed with some new video game, the way the neighbor’s dog keeps digging up your flowers, stupid stuff that fills the space.
baran tells this short story about getting lost on a walk the other day because she was distracted thinking about work, but she catches herself and shifts to something lighter, complaining about traffic instead. her laugh slips out when you tease her about directions, a quiet sound that always hit you right in the gut.
“remember when we took him to that park and he refused to leave until he found the ‘perfect stick’?” she asks, stretching her legs out so her foot bumps yours accidentally-on-purpose.
“yeah, and you spent twenty minutes helping him look like it was a serious mission.” you smile despite the tension coiling low in your stomach. “you’re both ridiculous.”
she turns her head toward you on the couch, closer now. “it made him happy.” her gaze drops to your mouth for a beat, then back up. “i miss making you happy too.”
the words hang there. you don’t pull away when her hand rests on the cushion between you, fingers brushing your thigh lightly. she doesn’t push for more, just sits there with you, talking in that calm way of hers, attentive to every shift in your expression. it gets easier, she mocks the way you organized the bookshelf last time she was over, calling it “controlled chaos.”
you fire back about her habit of rearranging the fridge by expiration date, and she grins. “efficiency isn’t a crime, that’s what made us work.”
you look up at her and huff a small laugh, then back down at your hands. “right.”
an hour slips by. the conversation dips and flows, kid stuff mixing with old memories and careful questions about how you’ve both been. she stays, doesn’t make a move to leave even when the clock ticks later. the tension simmers underneath every glance, every accidental touch, building slow and thick.
baran’s knee presses warm against yours through her jeans, her hand sliding over bold and sure to rest on your thigh, thumb rubbing these slow, lazy circles that make your skin prickle under the fabric of your pants. her eyes stay locked on you, steady and dark, patient focus like she’s just waiting for you to catch up to whatever she decided an hour ago when she showed up at the door.
you feel the shift in the air, thick and heavy, and your stomach does a nervous flip. you swallow hard, not pulling away but not fully leaning in either. “we probably shouldn’t,” you say, voice low. “it’ll just complicate everything again. and if our son finds out, it’ll mess with his head even more, having us back and forth like this. we said we were done with this part.”
she doesn’t pull her hand back. instead her thumb keeps moving, slow and soothing, like she’s trying to ease the worry right out of you. she huffs this soft laugh. “hey, i know,” she murmurs, voice calm and low, the kind that always made you feel like things could be simple if you just let her handle it.
“i’m not trying to mess anything up for him. or for you. this doesn’t have to mean anything. just… tonight. one time. we both miss it. i miss feeling you like this, close.”
you hesitate, breath catching as her fingers press a little firmer into your thigh, not pushing but reminding you she’s right there. “baran… it’s never just one time with us. you know that.”
“maybe,” she says, tilting her head. a dry little smirk tugging at her mouth but her eyes staying soft, reassuring. “but we’re adults. we can handle one night without turning it into a whole situation. it’s no pressure, really. just us, blowing off some steam. thought it’d be nice… you’re wound so tight lately, i can see it. no one can really make you feel the way i do. let me help with that. one time. i promise.”
her hand slides up your thigh a little higher, thumb still circling, and she leans in enough that her lips ghost yours when she talks. “i’ve been thinking about you every night the past couple months, azizam. just wanna make you feel good again. that’s all.”
you bite your lip, the pull in your chest mixing with the heat low in your belly. months of keeping distance, of polite texts and quick goodbyes at drop-offs, and now she’s here, solid and warm and saying all the right things in her stupid steady voice. “you swear it won’t make things weirder?”
she nods, fingers threading into your hair at the back of your neck, gentle but sure. “i swear. no strings, no drama. let me take care of you for a bit, baby.” her eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up, patient as ever. “unless you really want me to stop. say the word and i will.” she offers a soft smile, when you don’t respond she sighs, clasps her hands together with a small chuckle. “at least let me say goodnight to the little man.”
before she can get any further you close the distance, surprising her. the kiss starts firm but it deepens fast when you open up for her. her tongue slides against yours, warm and familiar, and she makes this low sound in her throat that vibrates through you. her hand at your neck holds you right there, not rough but enough to keep you close, like she’s scared you’ll change your mind.
you kiss her back hard, all those months of nothing pouring out in the way your teeth catch her bottom lip, the way your hands fist in her sweater. she groans softly, shifting so she’s half pulling you into her lap on the couch, her other hand sliding under your shirt to press warm against your back. the circles her thumb was drawing turn into broader strokes, mapping your skin like she’s memorizing it all over again.
“that’s it,” she breathes between kisses, lips brushing yours. “you give in so easily with me.” she grins against your jaw, nipping lightly, then lower to your neck, sucking a mark that makes your breath hitch. you can feel her heartbeat against you, steady but faster now, her body heat bleeding through her clothes as she holds you tighter.
“missed how you feel,” she murmurs when you finally pull back for air, forehead resting against yours, her breath coming a little uneven now. her voice is lower, rougher around the edges like it’s taking effort to keep it steady. “missed touching you. the way you fit right against me.”
you nod, breathing shaky and quick, heart hammering so loud you’re sure she can hear it. instead of answering you just pull her back in, kissing her harder, deeper, like you’re trying to make up for every single night you spent apart. your hands push at her jacket, shoving it off her shoulders until it drops to the floor with a soft thud.
she helps you yank the sweater up and over her head in one quick motion, no bra underneath, and then her breasts are right there, full and soft and warm, nipples already tight and dark from how turned on she is.
you don’t even think about it. your palms slide over them, squeezing the weight of her, thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples until they pebble harder under your touch. baran arches up into your hands with a sharp inhale, her hips twitching under you, her thick cock pressing insistently against your thigh through her jeans. she lets out this low, broken sound in the back of her throat, not quite a groan but close, like she’s cracking just a little more.
she swears in farsi, eyes half-lidded as she watches your hands on her. “you still drive me fucking crazy.” her own fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder against her lap, grinding up slow so you can feel exactly how hard she is for you. the friction makes heat pool low in your belly, slick and needy already.
she leans in again, mouth hot on your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while her hands slide under your shirt, palms broad and warm as they map up your back. “upstairs,” she says into your ear, nipping at the sensitive spot right under your ear, voice rougher than before. “before we don’t make it that far and i end up fucking you on the couch.”
you laugh quietly into her neck, the sound a little breathless, but your hands keep roaming over her bare chest, pinching one nipple lightly just to hear the way her breath catches. “smart… come on.”
she stands up, pulling you with her, hands firm and steady on your hips the whole time like she doesn’t want to risk losing contact. you stumble once on the way to the stairs because you’re too busy kissing along her neck, teeth grazing her skin, and she catches you easy with an arm around your waist. her dry little chuckle slips out, even now when she’s clearly fighting to stay in control.
you quickly grab her hand to pull her the rest of the way up. she follows close behind, fingers laced with yours, thumb still stroking over your skin like she can’t stop touching you.
in the bedroom she shuts the door soft behind you, the click of the lock sounding way too loud in the quiet house. then she’s on you again, backing you toward the bed with deliberate steps, hands sliding down to grip your ass and pull you flush against her. her cock rock hard between you, and she kisses you desperately, tongue sliding deep like she’s starving for it. her breasts brush against your chest with every movement, nipples dragging, and she makes this low, needy sound when you reach down and palm her through her jeans.
“been thinking about this for months,” she admits between kisses, “you have no idea.” voice cracking just a fraction as she backs you until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. “every night. just you. it’s always only you, baby.” her hands are everywhere, tugging at your shirt, sliding under it to feel bare skin, patient but clearly hanging on by a thread.
she peels your shirt off with careful hands, letting her fingertips drag along your skin as she goes. her mouth follows right after, kissing wet and open down your neck, pausing to suck a mark right at the base of your throat that makes you shiver hard, a little gasp slipping out before you can catch it. her hands map your sides, thumbs pressing firm into the dip of your waist like she’s claiming the space again, then sliding higher, palms cupping under your breasts as she breathes against your collarbone.
“you’re so soft,” she mutters, voice low and rough, lips brushing your skin with every word. “missed every inch of you.”
you shove her jeans down her hips, impatient now, and palm her cock through her underwear. it’s thick and hot, already leaking enough to leave a wet spot against the fabric. she hisses through her teeth, hips pushing forward into your hand like she can’t help it.
“been too long… haven’t even been with anyone else,” she admits quietly, almost under her breath, kicking the rest of her clothes off in a hurry. her cock springs up heavy, curving toward her stomach, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening. her chest rise and fall faster with each breath.
you pause for a second, letting her words sink in, then let out a soft, breathless laugh. “oh, so that’s what you’re going with? trying to make me feel guilty because i actually went out and had a shitty hookup while you were being all noble and waiting?”
baran huffs a laugh too, but there’s this edge to it. she climbs onto the bed and helps you lay down comfortably, one hand supporting your back as she guides you onto the pillows, making sure your head is settled just right before she settles between your thighs. her touch is careful even now, thumbs brushing along your sides like she’s making sure you’re okay, like she still can’t help taking care of you.
“not trying to make you feel guilty,” she murmurs, leaning down so her breasts brush against yours as she hovers over you. “just saying… nobody else feels right. nobody else is you.” her cock presses hot and heavy against your inner thigh as she grinds slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of her, thick and throbbing.
you reach up and tug her closer by the back of her neck, grinning even as your heart races. “yeah? poor baran, so lonely while i was putting myself out there.” you tease, mock pouting but your voice is shaky with want as her hips roll against you again.
she leans down and smiles against your mouth, a small, knowing smirk that always gets you. “keep talking shit and i’ll remind you exactly why nobody else measures up.” then she kisses you deep, tongues lazy and messy, tasting and teasing like she really is trying to memorize every second of how you kiss back.
her fingers slide down between your bodies, teasing along your slit, spreading the slickness before circling your clit with just the right pressure. steady, focused, exactly like she always was. “you’re so wet already,” she says against your mouth, voice steady but cracking at the edges with how bad she wants this. “this all for me?”
“yeah,” you whisper, rocking your hips up into her hand. “all for you. only you.”
she chuckles low, but it’s breathless. “still got the effect on you,” she whispers, almost to herself. one finger push inside you, curling just right, and you moan softly, clenching around it as you rock down. she adds a second after a minute, then a third, stretching you slow and patient, thumb never stopping its tight circles on your clit. your thighs start to shake and she notices immediately, a small satisfied smirk flashing across her face even as her own hips twitch against your leg.
you reach down and wrap your hand around her cock, gripping the base and sliding up, twisting your wrist over the head where she’s slick and leaking. “you’re so hard,” you whisper, thumbing over the tip, spreading the wetness. “god, baran.”
she groans, burying her face in your neck, hips fucking shallow into your fist. her breath is hot against your skin, coming faster now. “want inside you so bad,” she says, nipping at your ear, voice rough. “been dreaming about you- your body for months. nothing else feels right, baby. you have no idea.”
“fuck me then,” you breathe, squeezing her a little tighter just to hear the way her breath stutters.
she pulls her fingers out slow, making you whine at the loss, then lines up. the head of her cock presses against your entrance and she pushes in inch by inch, stretching you wide around her thickness. the burn is so good, full and deep, and when she bottoms out you both just stay there, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard.
her breasts press soft and warm against yours, nipples dragging with every tiny shift. you feel every inch of her inside, hot and throbbing, and the solid weight of her body on top of you after all this time makes something tight in your chest loosen and ache at the same time.
“fuck,” she groans, staying perfectly still for a long moment, like she’s savoring it. “you feel… perfect. so tight around me, baby.”
she starts moving, deep steady rolls of her hips that grind right where you need it. not rushing it, just thorough, skin slapping quiet and wet with every thrust. you wrap your legs around her waist, heels digging into her ass to pull her deeper. “right there, oh fuck,” you gasp when she hits your spot perfectly, nails digging into her shoulders.
“yeah? like that?” she asks, voice strained but still so focused. she adjusts her angle without missing a beat, fucking you a little deeper, a little harder. one hand braces by your head, the other reaches between you to rub your clit in those tight, precise circles she knows drive you crazy. sweat starts slicking your skin where your bodies press together, her hair falling messy around her face as she leans down to kiss you again.
“harder,” you tell her, rocking up to meet every thrust. “i need more.”
she gives it to you, hips snapping forward with more force, but still controlled, like she’s holding back just enough to make it last. “like this?” she pants, seeking approval while grinding deep on every stroke. “tell me how it feels.”
“so good,” you moan, clenching around her. “missed your cock so much, baby. f-fuck-“
baran makes this low, wrecked sound and buries her face in your neck again, sucking another mark as she keeps her steady, mind-melting rhythm. the room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of her sliding in and out of you, your shared breathing, the creak of the bed.
she’s cracking more at the edges now, thrusts getting just a little less precise, but still so attentive, still watching every reaction on your face like she needs to know exactly what you’re feeling.
you flip her after a while, pushing at her shoulders until she rolls onto her back with this surprised but pleased little huff. you swing a leg over, straddling her hips, and she helps steady you with both hands on your thighs, thumbs stroking the skin there like she needs the contact.
you sink down slow onto her cock, inch by inch, the stretch even better from this angle. fuller. deeper. you feel every thick ridge as she fills you up again, your walls fluttering around her until your ass meets her hips and she’s buried to the hilt, making her shakily exhale.
“fuck,” you both breathe out at the same time.
you grind in slow circles at first, hands braced on her chest, fingers teasing her nipples, rolling them between your thumbs and forefingers. baran’s grip tightens on your hips, not forcing you, just holding on like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. her eyes are half-shut, heavy-lidded, but she’s watching every movement you make, drinking it in.
“you’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, voice rough and low. one hand slides up your body to cup your breast, pinching the nipple just hard enough to make you moan. “you look so good like this.”
instead of answering right away you lean down, pressing your chest flush to hers, and she immediately wraps her arms around your back, pulling you in tight. skin to skin, breasts squished together, her heartbeat hammering against yours. she keeps you there, close as possible, one hand splayed wide between your shoulder blades while the other grips your ass, encouraging the slow grind.
you stay like that for a long moment, just rocking on her cock, feeling it throb deep inside you while your mouths hover close, sharing breath. “i missed you too, you know,” you whisper against her lips. “missed how you hold me.”
baran makes a quiet, wrecked sound and kisses you, deep and sloppy, tongue sliding against yours as her arms squeeze tighter around your body. like she’s trying to pull you inside her chest. her hips roll up gently, meeting your movements, keeping that full, grinding pressure right where it feels best. sweat is starting to slick between your bodies, making everything slide hotter, easier.
the pace builds gradually. you start bouncing harder, lifting up until just the head of her cock catches at your entrance before sinking back down, taking her deep again and again. the bed creaks under you in a steady rhythm, sheets twisting around your legs and tangling between your feet.
her cock drags perfect inside you every time, hitting that spot that makes sparks shoot up your spine. one of her hands stays glued to your back, keeping your upper bodies pressed together while the other slips between you to rub your clit.
“that’s it. you’re doing so good,” she pants against your mouth, not letting you pull away more than an inch. “stay close.” her voice is strained, cracking at the edges, that usual calm fracturing the longer you ride her. you can feel her chest heaving against yours.
you kiss her again, tongues tangled as you grind down deep and roll your hips. “you’re so deep like this, baby,” you breathe, forehead pressed to hers. “making me feel so full.”
“yeah?” she whispers back, eyes locked on yours, dark and intense. her arm around your back flexes, holding you even tighter, hugging you while she fucks you. “just… fuck, you feel so good. thank you… for letting me have you. missed you so much, my love.” she says it so vulnerable, it almost sounds like she’d start crying.
you clench around her at the words, a soft whimper slipping out, and she softly moans, thrusting up harder to meet you. the closeness makes everything more intense, the heat of her skin, the way her breath fans across your face, the faint scent of her warm scent mixed with sweat.
she keeps you pulled in, bodies flush, barely any space between you as you ride her faster, the wet slap of skin filling the room.
her fingers on your clit never falter, steady and perfect, winding you tighter and tighter while her cock strokes deep with every roll of your hips. you bury your face in her neck, kissing and biting softly at her skin, and she turns her head to press her mouth to your temple, murmuring low words between shaky breaths.
“you’re still my girl… i love you, azizam.” she didn’t mean for it to slip out, but it’s almost like she couldn’t help herself.
months apart, and now she’s holding you like she never wants to let go again, cock buried inside you, bodies locked together in the messiest, most intimate way possible. you don’t want it to end either.
you switch again after a while, baran rolling you onto your back with this easy strength that still makes your stomach flip. she settles on top, sliding back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back. her long strokes are steady and deliberate, hitting deep every single time, dragging against that spot that makes your toes curl.
her mouth is everywhere, sucking fresh marks across your chest, tongue flicking over your nipples, biting down lightly on your shoulder like she needs to leave proof she was here.
“listen to how wet you are,” she whispers against your skin, voice rough but still so focused. “you’re perfect, no one will ever come close to you.”
the room is filled with the slick, filthy sound of her cock sliding in and out of you, your shaky gasps, her low groans that vibrate against your neck, skin slapping steadier and louder now. you’re both sweating, bodies sliding together hot and easy.
you’re right on the edge, thighs trembling around her hips, but she keeps the pace just right, deep and controlled. holding you there, drawing it out until you’re whining under her.
“baran,” you gasp, fingers tangled tight in her messy hair.
“i know, baby. i’ve got you,” she murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, breath mixing with yours. her thrusts get a little harder, a little faster, but still so precise, sweat dripping down her back under your scratching nails.
when you finally cum it hits you like a wave, crashing hard. you clench tight around her cock, a moan tearing out of you as your back arches off the bed, toes curling and doing your best to stay quiet with your son sleeping down the hall. she fucks you through it, steady and deep, grinding against your g-spot until you’re shaking and oversensitive, little aftershocks making you twitch around her.
“fuck, you feel incredible,” she groans, her voice cracking as her pace starts to lose that careful rhythm. “i’m so close-“
“wait,” you manage, still panting, hands sliding to her shoulders. “you can’t cum inside. please, baran.”
she slows just a little but doesn’t stop moving, looking down at you with this almost offended expression, trying to figure out your reasons with her big, chocolate eyes. her eyebrows furrowed like you just suggested something ridiculous. “why?” she asks, hips still rolling slow and deep, cock thick and throbbing inside you. “we used to do this all the time. what’s different now?”
you let out a breathless laugh, half from the pleasure still buzzing through you and half from how typical this is. “because we’re not married anymore. and we got caught up in the moment, a condom didn’t even cross my mind until right now. just… pull out, okay?”
baran huffs, but she nods, leaning down to kiss you slow. “fine. i won’t. i promise.” she says it steady, like she means it, but her arms wrap tighter around you, pulling your bodies flush again as she starts moving once more.
she fucks you harder now, chasing her own release, and you’re still so sensitive it feels overwhelming in the best way. her face is buried in your neck, breath hot and ragged. “you feel too good,” she mutters against your skin. “so warm and tight…”
her thrusts turn erratic, cock swelling inside you, and then she buries herself as deep as she can with a low, rough moan that vibrates through your whole body. she cums hard, hot and thick pulses flooding deep inside you, grinding slow and deliberate like she’s trying to push every drop as far in as it’ll go, wanting it to stick. she doesn’t pull out. not even close.
your eyes widen, a sharp gasp escaping as you feel the warmth spreading, her cock still twitching and pulsing deep. “baran-” you say, voice shaky, a mix of shock and thrill that makes your stomach tighten all over again. your hands push at her chest, nails digging in. “what the fuck?”
she doesn’t move away. just stays buried to the hilt, arms locked around you, breathing hard against your neck. “i know. i’m so sorry, baby.” she murmurs, but there’s no real apology in her tone. it’s rough, honest, a little wrecked. “it just… felt too good. came natural. i’ve cum inside you hundreds of times when we were married. why would it feel any different now?”
you scoff, pushing harder at her chest even as your body clenches around her again from the fullness. “because we’re not married anymore, baran. i trusted you. you literally just said you wouldn’t.”
she lifts her head enough to look at you. eyes hooded, dark and intense, her patient attentiveness still there even now. one hand strokes down your waist, soothing, while her hips give one more slow grind, pushing her cum deeper. “i know. but feeling you like this again… i couldn’t pull out. missed it too much.” she kisses your shoulder, soft and lingering, voice dropping quieter. “let me stay inside a little longer. please. just for a minute, you feel good.”
you stay connected, her warmth filling you, the sheets damp and tangled around your legs, the whole room smelling like sweat and sex and her familiar shampoo. your heart is still racing, body buzzing from the orgasm and the surprise of her breaking that promise so easily, but the way she’s holding you - close and careful, like she’s afraid to let even an inch of space come between you - makes it hard to stay mad.
months of distance, and now this messy, intimate wreck of a moment feels like everything rushing back at once. she presses another soft kiss to your neck, thumb rubbing slow circles on your hip, patient as ever even after she just got exactly what she wanted. she just needs to be more consistent from now on, more in your life. make sure you keep the baby. keep her.
the biggest mistake people make is assuming that weird sex with women is about mommy issues and weird sex with men is about daddy issues. wrong. a woman can be your father too. #feminism
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Victoria joining a gym to do floor exercises/cardio/yoga because she knows she’s way to young to be waking up with back pain like this
Cassie being a regular member of the same gym because weight lifting helps her deal with any cravings/her general anxiety/mild anger issues
They both see each other 1 out of 3 times they’re there because of their similar schedules, but do NOT say hi or reveal themselves because they literally cannot stop drooling.
And so they have NO idea why the other is acting so weird at work all of a sudden.
Trinity goes to the same gym, always makes a point to say hello when she walks past either of them. SEES them spying on each other’s workouts like creeps and stumbling around like horny teenagers in the Pitt.
Begins referring to them in her head as “stupid4stupid” .
Trinity had tried to be so careful. She waited until Baran’s breaths had evened out to do it. Most nights, it’d just be her wrist. Trinity would set two of her fingers against Baran’s wrist and wait until her own heartbeat wouldn't sound so loud in her ears.
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
Each pulse against the pads of her fingers would sooth Trinity in a way that nothing else could. No words from Baran about feeling positive about the meeting with her neurologist, or how Trinity really didn’t have to worry about her, could ever reach the same primal part of her that just needed the beating of her heart against her fingertips.
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
She was alive.
And the panic in Trinity’s chest would mostly settle until she could find some resemblance of sleep beside her. On nights that Baran had her son, Trinity would spend twisting back and forth, from side to side in her own bed in an apartment that was no longer feeling quite like home.
Unable to sleep with the unknowing.
How could she sleep when Baran could be dead twenty minutes away just like Marisol had been twelve years—
Sometimes, the wrist wasn’t enough.
Like tonight when that awful thought crawls into her and won’t let go. On those nights, she usually will wait until she’s sure that Baran is asleep, mouth open sleeping, to move her hand up her neck to rest her fingers on Baran’s carotid artery.
Nights like tonight when Marisol’s name and memory came back biting she needed the strongest pulse against her fingers so she couldn’t question whether it was her own pulse she was feeling.
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Summary: You decide you need to see Cassie one more time before fully letting her go from your life. So when you show up at her apartment, soaked through to the bone from the pouring rain, she has no choice but to let you in
Pairing: Cassie x reader (it's heavily implied reader is a girl/has female genatalia, and long hair or hair of some sort)
W.c: 7.2k | Part one is here!!
warnings/tags: adult language, age gap (although it's not really said; it's more of an implied thing), condescending!Cassie, dom!Cassie, subbish!Cassie towards the end, fingering, orgasm denial, jealous!Cassie, strap use, spitting (and not on the mouth shall I say), tribbing(? Is that the right word for it?), cassie's gold chain makes an appearance, the strap is referred to as 'her cock', pet names (baby, honey, sweet girl, sweetheart, etc.), 'good girl' is used many times, MEN AND MINORS GEEETTTTTT OUUUTTTTT THIS IS STRICTLY 18+
You had gotten really drunk. Really, really drunk.
Somehow, by a miracle (and probably the two full bottles of water Robby made you drink before going to bed that night), you had woken up without a major headache. You didn’t feel sick, either.
Your head just pounded when you sat up, but other than that, you were fine. Which is why Robby felt it was okay to stare at you, disappointingly, from the wall he’s leaning against, which connects the living room to the kitchen/dining room.
“What’s up, boss?” You yawn, stretching on the couch.
“Well, for starters, you’re sleeping on my couch.”
You look down, and around the room you’re in. “I mean, Trinity probably could’ve taken me home if that’s the issue.”
“No, she couldn’t have.” He shakes his head, raising a hand and pointing to the ceiling. “She’s sleeping in the guest room upstairs. Along with Dennis, who’s sleeping on the floor.”
You smile a little at the image rolling around in your head of the two of them in Robby’s guest room before stretching again and finally getting to your feet. Your vision swims a little, but before Robby can try to steady you, you do it yourself.
“I’m alright. I’m fine.” You insist.
“I have a pot of coffee ready on the kitchen counter. Please drink some.” He holds his hands in a prayer motion, pressing the tips of his fingers to his lips.
“Yeah, coffee sounds really good right now.” You’re not even that big of a coffee drinker. You prefer tea, if anything. Which is what Cassie usually will get you if she happens to be the one on a coffee run that morning.
Cassie.
You had forgotten all about what had happened last night between you and her. And now the name that once brought butterflies to your stomach has soured.
As much as the words help to channel your anger, the truth is is that you’re sad. You’re heartbroken. You thought that maybe something would’ve changed last night and she would say yes to actually dating you after she fucked you in that bathroom.
But some part deep in your mind had whispered to you that it knew that would never happen.
You sighed as you lifted the coffee pot to your mug, watching the steam curl into the air. It was decided that you would forget about it, about everything that happened. You wouldn’t bring it up in conversation; you wouldn’t corner her at work and try to pry it out of her; none of that.
Sugar was poured into the cup as well as cream as you told yourself you didn’t care. You told yourself you were mature. You told yourself you could handle it the way adults handled things they didn’t like- without fuss and without bitterness.
However, it all went down the drain when you walked into work the next day, and Cassie smiled at you as if nothing had happened. Not a real apology. Not even a “sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that.”
Just that particular Cassie McKay charm. A nice, smooth smile that seemed like she’d practiced in the mirror and aimed directly at the parts of you that used to melt. ‘Used to’ isn’t the right word, however, because she could still melt parts of you without even trying.
But you remembered how her eyes had slid past yours when she said it. Like it was a choice, you were a choice she’d regretted making.
So now, you decided you weren’t going to be sweet about it.
If Cassie needed something, you helped. If Cassie spoke, you answered. If Cassie looked at you like she used to before, you kept your face neutral and your tone light. Light enough to pass as polite and heavy enough to sting.
You didn’t have to be cruel to be petty. Petty was just something you called it when you refused to give her access to you that she once had for free.
By the time lunch rolled around, you were somewhat depleted. You ate your sandwich. You checked your phone. You listened to Perlah and Princess talk about the fireworks shows, and the neighborhood parades, and who they’d heard had been drunk enough to confess love to the wrong person.
However, you were sort of excited. You had a date, after all. With Doctor Lorenz. And you weren’t going to let anything get in the way. The hours seemed to stretch on until it hit 7:30. You weren’t waiting for someone to give you the okay to leave; you were just out of there.
Doctor Lorenz was amazing. When she laughed, it was warm. She listened and waited for her turn to speak whenever you talked, and she said she was interested in you. Like very, very interested. Actually interested.
She didn’t have you confused about what her next move would be. It made the anger you had carried around all day lessen a little bit. So, you went home with her. Because why not? And she was good, really good. Had your legs shaking good.
By the time you got home, your phone was full of messages from Doctor Lorenz. She checked in, asked you to text her back when you made it home safely, asked what you’d like to do next time, if there is a next time, etc.
It should’ve been exciting.
It was.
But every time your mind drifted, it returned to the thought of: Cassie could’ve had this.
Cassie could’ve had you, whole and not half-taken, if she’d chosen to. If she’d acted like you mattered after she decided she wanted more than sex. But she hadn’t. She’d acted like you were disposable, and your petty streak flared again, bright and bitter.
But it’s not because you wanted to hurt Cassie. You could never hurt Cassie. You just wanted her to understand that it hurt you.
Work the next morning felt amazing, but you were tired. People moved around you like they were in their own world. You had barely sat down when you saw Cassie across the office. She looked…fine. Of course she did. Cassie wore fine like armor.
Her smile was bright, her posture perfect, her attention sharp. It landed on you, and you kept your gaze on your screen. You didn’t give her the satisfaction. Cassie walked by your desk, however.
“Morning.”
You answered, neutral. “Morning.”
For a heartbeat, it felt almost like before. Then Cassie’s eyes flicked down to your phone as your screen dimmed, but you hadn’t locked it fully, and the preview of your last message from Doctor Lorenz flashed long enough for her to see.
You watched as something registered in her mind, and she simply nodded before leaving you alone.
That night, you’d showered and dried your hair and changed into clothes that didn’t smell like work stress. Your phone sat face down on the counter.
But it felt like something was missing. Someone was missing. It had your mind racing and your heart beating fast. You wanted to yell, scream, something. So, you got dressed and started to walk down the front steps of your apartment.
You wanted her. Not Doctor Lorenz. Cassie. You wanted Cassie. So bad.
And soon enough you found yourself running to her apartment. It had begun to rain on your drive home, so you don’t exactly know what part of your brain thought this was a good idea. Clearly not the rational part.
At first you thought it was because you couldn’t stand being alone anymore. You were springing up the steps towards Cassie’s building, and your thoughts narrowed to one thing: You just needed to see her.
It wasn’t to beg, and it wasn’t to forgive her either. You just needed to look at her.
Your shoes thudded on the steps; you banged your fist on her door and waited a few minutes in the rain as you waited for her to answer. Water slid down your sleeves, down your arms. You were soaked through to your bones, rainwater dripping off your lashes. When she didn’t come, you banged again, knuckles against the door.
You swallowed your nerves and pride before they both made you turn and walk away from this all. Finally, Cassie stood there, watching as rain slicked your hair to your forehead, darkening it until it looked nearly black. Your hoodie was damp, your shoulders slick with water, and the warm light from her apartment was splayed in the back of her, making it look like a halo of bright light was shining behind her. Your eyes were too bright, too alive, too full of feelings you clearly did not know how to hold inside of you.
“Cassie,” you said, surprised that your voice didn’t crack. One of her hands was braced on the frame. Her expression went blank the second she saw you, but only for a brief second. It was back to being something like hurt. But she shouldn’t be hurt. It’s you that should be hurt.
Her gaze flicked past you. She needed proof of what you were doing, why you were here, whether anyone else was with you. Then she looked back at your face, and the jealousy hit her so fast.
“What are you doing?” She demanded.
Your breath was rough. “You. We just- I just needed to see you.”
Cassie stared at you like you had three heads. “You’re soaked,” she said, voice dropping.
“I know.” Your laugh came out shaky. But it wasn’t really even a laugh. “I didn’t plan it.”
“You didn’t plan it?” Cassie stepped back automatically, and it seemed to you as though her body had decided to let you in before her mouth did. “Come in.”
The second you crossed the threshold, the cold seemed to grab you harder. Your legs wobbled slightly, not from weakness but from shock. Cassie closed the door behind you with a soft click. And she reached for you, something you never thought would happen again. She reached for you, her hands finding your shoulders, guiding you toward the entry area.
She peeled your wet outer layer away from your body carefully, as if you were fragile. You shivered when the rain-soaked fabric moved, chills stabbing up your spine. Cassie noticed instantly, and her eyes flicked down, moving again over you, briskly. “Shoes off.”
“What?” You managed.
“Shoes off,” she repeated, firmer this time. You kicked them away, one by one. Wet socks slapped against the floor. Your hands trembled as you tried to fold your arms over yourself. But before you could even try to warm up, Cassie reached behind you, placing a towel into your hands.
“I just needed to see you,” you said again, softer this time. Like maybe if you repeated it enough times, it would stop sounding so desperate. Some flicker of emotion crossed her face, quick and painful. She took the towel from your hands and, without asking, began to dry you.
Slowly, around your hair first, patting your scalp, trying to coax the warmth back into you. Her fingers moved over your wet strands, friction gentle but certainly effective. Then the towel moved to your shoulders.
The care she took in trying to make you warm again, it made the anger flare to cover the surprise. You tried to turn your head away, to hide how much the attention affected you. “You don’t have to- I can dry myself.”
Cassie’s voice seemed close to your ear when she answered. “I’m not doing it because I have to.”
Your breath caught. She finished drying your hair, then moved the towel down your neck, over your collarbone. You felt every point of contact, every small pressure. “Cassie,” you said, and your own voice sounded wrong.
She placed the towel aside on the nearby kitchen counter before asking you, “Look at me.” So you did. “The other night-” she began.
“It’s fine, Cassie.”
“It’s not fine,” she says roughly. “I was- it wasn’t right, what I said. And just leaving you like that. I- It was me being an asshole.”
You look at her. “Yeah,” you say. She huffs. “I mean, I know that already. I worked it out from the beginning.”
Her lip twitches. Any other time, she would snarl at you to lose the attitude, probably fuck you into a happier mood. Maybe that’s why you keep prodding. Maybe you kind of wish she would.
“You want a drink?” She counters instead. You look at her in shock a little bit. Not really. But what can you say? You don’t want to leave right now, and this seems like your only way to stay. She grabs two glasses and pours the two of you some water.
You’re still shivering. Cassie reached out and touched your cheek with the back of her fingers. “I hate seeing you like this,” she admitted. You swallowed, heart thudding too hard. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. “You’re cold. So we’re fixing that first.”
She moved you, guiding you toward the couch area in her living room. The lights were dimmed. Cassie reached out for a blanket and draped it over your legs. Then she grabbed another towel, and she turned on the heater nearby.
You sat there, wrapped, shivering less, watching her. “If this is an apology,” you say, slowly, “It’s kind of terrible.”
She pauses, drink halfway to her lips. “Jesus,” she mutters, voice muffled in the glass. “You’re a pain in the ass sometimes.” You grab your own drink, taking a sip. You ignore the way your fingers tremble on the glass. “I’m sorry,” she says after a beat.
Your brow lifts. You look at her in a sort of ‘keep going’.
“I shouldn’t have-” she cuts herself off with a sigh. She looks physically pained, and you wonder what it is that’s killing her; if it’s the apology itself, or what she’s trying to apologize for. “I shouldn’t have said it. Any of it. It wasn’t fair to you. And I was…I don’t know. Scared, maybe.”
“Scared?” You almost laugh. “Of what? Me?”
Her jaw jumps. “No, not of you. Of this going on between us.”
Your face heats. “There is no this, though, Cassie. You made sure of that; you made that perfectly clear.” She’s silent, so you press her. “That’s what you wanted,” you say. “That’s…Cassie, that’s what you wanted.” “Of course it’s not what I wanted, baby,” she says. “You-”
“Then why-”
“Because it’s too much,” she sets her glass down on the coffee, and her fingers rub at the pinnacle of her nose, between her eyes. Her eyes flash. “It’s too much, baby. It’s too much. You’re…you’re dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous?”
“You don’t get it,” she says. “You don’t see what you do sometimes. It wasn’t just nothing to me.”
You’re silent now. You can hear your heart beating between your ears. “It wasn’t nothing to me either.” You mumble. “It was never nothing.”
“No?” She now challenges. “You moved on pretty quickly.”
You set the glass down opposite hers. When you straighten, your breath comes out faster, harder. “Fuck off,” you say softly. “You have no right.”
She’s silent.
“Amy is good for me,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re convincing. “She’s good to me. She’s…nice.”
“She’s nice, hm?” Cassie repeats. The word sounds empty when she says it. It sounds like nothing. “And is that what you wanted?” Her voice is low, and you don’t remember when she got this close. “Nice?”
Your stomach tugs. Your face flushes. The flame on your cheeks spills to your neck. But you stand your ground. “Yes,” you grit out.
Cassie makes a quiet sound. “Did she fuck you nice too?”
“Cass,” you warn. But there’s no bite. Your resolve is slipping faster than you can snatch it back. And she knows it. She knows it because she knows you.
“Show me,” she says.
You swallow. She’s so close you can taste her: her breath on your lips and her scent in your nose. “Show you…what?”
“Show me how she fucked you,” she says.
“I don’t-” Your heat clears its way up your throat. Your pulse is drumming at your wrist, stuttering under her stare. Something is making you bolder than you feel.
Fuck you, Cassie McKay, you think. And you want to. You really, really want to. It’s the only thing you could think about these past few days. So you show her. Even though what she’s asking is wrong, twisted, and fucked. You tilt into her, the rest of the way, and press your lips to hers.
You feel as her tongue flicks out to meet yours, slipping hot inside your mouth. Sparks settle in your core. Your fingers tangle in her hair. You tug, pulling her head back, breaking the kiss. Your breath mingles with hers. You reach for her hand. It’s bigger than Amy’s. Rougher. Your fingers wrap around hers, and you lean her palm to your thigh.
“Like this,” you say, softly. “We started like this.”
She doesn’t move right away. She lets the heat from her palm seep under your jeans and settle into your skin. Testing you: testing how long you’ll wait for her. When you can’t take it anymore, you guide her higher. You urge her hand between your thighs and her thumb rolls a circle over your clothed clit. You make a small, desperate noise which makes her pause with her fingers pressed to your core.
“Did you make those sounds for her?” She breathes.
Your face burns. She rubs you slowly, deliberately, and you begin to rut into her palm. Your sleep pants dig into your cunt when you arch your hips, and the pressure is unbearable. You’re so tightly wound you’re surprised you don’t snap.
When you don’t answer her, she stops abruptly. Completely. Her fingers threaten to drag away before you’re pleading. “No,” you gasp. “No. I would never- I could never make those noises for her. Only you. Please.”
“Please what?” She mutters.
“Touch me,” you plead.
“I am touching you, sweet girl.” She says. “I’m touching you just like she did. Since you liked it so much. Since you wanted her so bad.”
“I didn’t,” you mumble. “I don’t, I wasn’t…Cassie, I wa-”
You’re not even sure what you’re saying. You can barely hear yourself think over the roar in your ears. She’s moving slowly, so slowly that all bets are off. You’re honestly ready to beg her, please, if it means she’ll stop teasing you and just pull your fucking pants down.
But she’s not finished. You have a feeling she’s just getting started when she pulls her hand back, picks her drink up from the coffee table, and takes a long, quiet sip while you sink into her sofa. You hear her glass clink when she sets it back down. She stands then, turning to look at you as she says,
“Take them off.”
You don’t ask her to elaborate. You know what she wants, and she sets her gaze on yours as you lose your pants and your underwear and kick them to the floor.
“Did you leave your shirt on?” She asks, head tilted. “For her?”
“No,” you say softly.
“Then take it off.”
So you do. Bra as well. They both join the pile on the floor, and you settle back into the sofa, shy as all hell.
You don’t know why you’re shy, because you’ve been naked in front of Cassie a million times. More than that, really. But it’s the first time you’ve really been naked in front of her. You’re not self-conscious, usually, and it’s probably even more silly to be self-conscious now, in front of her, after you’ve fucked another woman. But you just can’t help it. There’s something about her stare as her eyes roam all over you.
Amy was so complimentary, so nice. She paused at every moment to tell you how beautiful you looked, how gorgeous; she would ask if you were okay; it was really sweet. She was really sweet.
Cassie, though. Cassie doesn’t say anything at all. She just looks at you the way no one’s looked at you before. She looks at you like you’re the only person she’s ever bothered to see. Her stare rakes over you, over your body, and when she speaks, her voice is hoarse.
“Tell me,” she says quietly. “Tell me what else.”
“Cassie,” you mumble. “We don’t have to- I mean-”
“Tell me,” She insists.
You hesitate. “She-” you swallow. Your throat feels tight. “I was on my back,” you say, cheeks blazing. “And she used…she used her fingers.”
You watch Cassie’s eyes go dark. Blue to black. “Get on your back,” she demands quietly.
You catch her eye and your pulse skips. You scoot back, lying down on her couch, with your back flat on the cushions and your neck propped on a pillow. You can feel how wet you are, rubbing your legs together to seek some sort of friction, but she’s quick to work her hands up your thighs, prying them apart, and you gasp as her fingers brush the arousal there and she hums.
“I know this is all for me, but I’d still like to ask.” She breathes.
Your breath hitches. You lift your hips off the cushions, chasing her hand. She slowly slides a finger over your folds, gathering some of the slick, and presses the pad of her finger to your entrance. You can only squirm in response.
“You,” you whine, pushing your hips up, trying in vain to pull her deeper. “All for you, of course it is, Cass.” You hear her make a noise in agreement.
She slips one finger inside before asking outright. “One finger?” she asks, fucking into you with a crooked index finger. Her thumb rolls lazy circles over your clit. It was enough to make you want more, need more, chase more, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make you cum. “Or did she use two?”
“Two,” you mumble. “She used two.” That’s a slight lie. While Amy was good at what she did, she was scared to make a mistake, even though she had a lot more experience than you. So she had used only one finger, even when you pressed for two.
“Are you sure it was two?” She taunts you. But you don’t have enough time to answer as she slips another finger inside you, stretching you just right, bracing on her free hand as she leans forward and begins to fuck you deeper. “Did she do it like this?”
You just moan, and it’s not even words. It’s something completely unintelligible. So she demands more.
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words for me.”
“She was….fuck, she was softer. M-more gentle.”
“Oh, was she now?” She hooks her fingers, and you cry out. “And is that what you wanted, honey? You wanted gentle?”
She slows down. Her movements soften, and you rut your hips in frustration. “No,” you yelp. “No.”
“No,” she agrees. She crooks her fingers again, and you come dangerously close to falling apart in her hands. The heel of her palm bumps your clit, and the contact makes you see stars. “Of course you don’t.”
Your head rolls against the pillow. Your vision swims because of her taunting words and when her wrist pumps faster. You can feel the fabric of her long-sleeve graze your thighs while she works you with her fingers- and it strikes you she’s still dressed. Like completely dressed. Not with just her shirt on and underwear, or maybe her pants are hanging low on her hips.
She’s completely, fully dressed. She’s got on some sort of sweatshirt whose sleeves have been pushed up to her elbows, and some old sweatpants. She has her slippers still on, planted on the carpet. She’s dressed like she’s ready for bed and you’re naked, totally naked, sprawled out on her sofa with your fingers inside you.
You want to tell her to take some clothes off: to even the playing field, a little, but you can’t think that far ahead. Not when your muscles clamp down around her knuckles and your breath is stolen from your throat with each move of her fingers. You try to tell her, desperately, that you’re-
“I-I’m gonna cum,” you whine. “Please-”
“Did she make you cum?” She asks, roughly, fingers still pumping into you.
You try to give her an answer; you try to focus. Your head swims, however, with trying to come up with a reply. “Cass-”
“Come on, baby, I know you can give me an answer. Did she make you cum like this?”
You can’t even lie this time. There’s no energy left inside you. “No,” you whine. “No, she didn’t.”
“Fuck, sweetheart,” she murmurs. It sounds almost…sympathetic. “I thought you said she was nice, honey.”
You feel her drag her hand away, right before you can even get your fill, and the message i clear. You didn’t cum then, and so you’re not going to cum now. You know what she’s doing. She’s going to play this game, give you the runaround, until you break and eventually beg her to fuck you the way she knows you really want to be fucked. Funnily enough, the only way Cassie can.
But you’re anything if not stubborn, and you’re pretty sure you’re still supposed to be angry with her. So you decide within yourself to hold out a little longer. Even when you writhe against the cushions, you whimper at the loss and begin to plead with her to touch you again.
“Focus,” she tells you. Her voice is dark. “What else she do, honey?”
“Her,” you breathe hard, trying to focus on getting the words out by looking up at the ceiling. You can’t even dare to spare a glance at her because you know your mind will turn to mush. “Her- fuck. Her mouth…”
She pauses. You can feel her pause, so you go against your better judgment and lower your head. You tip your head forward, off of the pillow, trying to get a read when she doesn’t respond right away. Her hands flex. She looks… more than jealous and mad. She looks absolutely pissed off.
“You let her…” Her eyes flicker down between your legs. “You let her taste you?” she says almost in disbelief.
You look at her. You’re panting. It’s short, shallow breaths as you nod. “Yes.” You really want to taunt her back, so you find yourself licking your lips as you say, “And she was good with her mouth, too.”
“Fuck you,” she swears. Her jaw tightens. She rolls her shoulders back, as if bracing for something. She now looks big and broad and ticked the fuck off. You know she had been working out for some time now, but it didn’t really register how big she was getting until now. Until she’s standing above you and looks like she could sling you easily over her shoulder if prompted enough.
Jesus Christ. You feel yourself getting wetter by the second at the thought of her pinning you down, because she definitely can, and making you cum for her over and over and over again. She sheds her sweater, and you can see the more prominent muscles of hers. Her shoulders are slightly more squared, she’s got noticeable biceps, and you can feel your mouth watering at the sight.
She pushes the sleeves of her long-sleeve shirt up to her forearms and sinks to her knees, facing the sofa. She grabs your calves with her hands and moves you like a rag doll, like you weigh nothing, shifting you around until your back is flat and your legs hang off the couch.
You let out a little oomph when your head slips off the pillow. She shuffles closer to the edge of the sofa, lifting your calves over her shoulders in a swift, easy motion, and drags her head down to your cunt.
You feel her breath hot and heavy against your core. You squirm, trying to grab at her hair, but she’s too far away. “I’m better, and you know that.” Her voice goes straight to your cunt. Your legs strain, digging into her muscular shoulders. “Isn’t that right, baby? Did she make you cum in her mouth?”
“Yes,” you whine, defiantly. Your hips rise and then fall, chasing her lips, and you can feel your resolve waning. “Yes, she did. And it was so good. So fucking good.” Your head spins.
“It was, was it?” Her teeth close around some of your skin on your stomach. She applies gentle, gentle pressure, enough to make you cry out a little bit. And then her tongue is sliding into you, hot and wet, curving inside you with a wicked hum.
“Oh, fuck,” you mumble. “Fuck, Cassie!”
She slides her tongue out of you. Just long enough to ask you, in a whisper. “When you said you needed to see me, is this why, hm? Is this why you ran all the way here?”
You moan weakly. You nod, or try to anyway. “You’re a dirty fucking girl. And were you thinking about me when you came in some other woman’s mouth, too? Did you think about my fingers?”
“Yes,” you whimper. You’re beyond caring, now. “Yes, yes, I did. I’m sorry.” You can’t think about anything that doesn’t start or end with anyone but Cassie.
“I think you’re lying.” She tells you, spitting on your cunt before moving her tongue up and down. “I don’t think you came for her. At all. I think you played nice, faking it for her. Did you play nice, hm?” “Yes,” you pant again. “I-I faked it for her.”
“And what about now, honey? Are you gonna fake it for me?”
“No,” you have to gather enough breath to push the words out. “No, fuck no.”
“That’s what I thought,” she responds. She licks a stripe up your clit with the flat of her tongue. You let out a strangled cry and dig your nails into her sofa. “I’m sorry, too, honey.”
At first, you think she’s apologizing for acting the way she did at Robby’s party. Maybe she feels remorse for leaving you in that bathroom with a kiss to your forehead as the parting gift. But instead, she follows it up with:
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait,” and she pulls away.
“Fuck,” you sob. “Come on, Cass, please?”
“I can’t, sweet girl,” she murmurs. “You wanted to fuck her so bad, so I’ll fuck you the same. You lied to me and said you came for her. That’s an extra strike.”
“But that…” You’re so frustrated you almost make a growl like a furious dog as you try to find the right words. “That was different, Cassie, I swear.” You would kill her if you had the energy and could string more than a few words together. “She wasn’t… fuck, she wasn’t you, Cass.” You writhe against her mouth.
She makes a quiet, hungry sound. Her tongue slips back inside you, and you grip at her hands. She intertwines your fingers with hers, and you rock your hips against her more forcefully. She just takes it, letting you be loud as you call her name, over and over and over, when she fucks you with her tongue but still doesn’t let you cum. But she doesn’t shut you up this time; she doesn’t use one of her hands to clamp down over your mouth; she doesn’t shove your panties into your mouth. She just listens to you whine her name. And when she drags her mouth away from your cunt, she murmurs yours against you.
She soon stands and pulls you up. You’re not sure where you’re going. You don’t really care. Her hands go to your waist and help you to whatever room she’s directing the two of you towards. You hear her soft footsteps on the hardwood, and you feel her hands when they squeeze you closer.
You stop in front of her bedroom door, and it creaks open and shuts once you’re inside. Cool air hits your skin; it smells different in here, like lilacs. Like she lit some candles before you showed up. She sets you down on her bed; striped sheets crumple where you land.
Everything smells like her.
She doesn’t join you on the bed right away. She gets undressed first. You listen and watch as she takes off her shirt first, and then her bra. Then her sweatpants and underwear. “Did she use a strap?” Cassie asks and you nod. She reaches into her closet and rummages around for something before she’s pulling out a box.
You can only keep your eyes on hers as she opens the cover and begins to pull on the straps of something. It’s obviously her strap, and she settles everything on her hips, checking twice to make sure things are in place, before she’s climbing on top of you, caging you into soft sheets, and your hands come up to skim her arms.
“How?” She breathes.
“Cass,” you mumble. You don’t want to think about Amy anymore. Doctor Lorenz. You don’t want to think about anyone else besides Cassie, the woman above you whose chain is currently dangling in front of your face. You want Cassie. Just Cassie. “Cassie,” you whine again. “Please.”
“How?” She echoes. Your head tips against the pillows. Your cunt throbs, aching, begging for her.
“She was on top,” you tell her. “We were…I mean we were like this.”
“Okay.” She nods, slowly. “Good girl for listening.” She mumbles before nudging her hips forward. The head of the silicone cock rubs against your entrance, and you whimper, arching back against white sheets.
“Thank you.” You respond to her earlier comment.
“Was it like this?” She murmurs. She snakes a hand between you both. Fists the base of the cock in her palm and guides it through your slick.
“Shit,” you gasp. “Yes like this.”
“Did she talk to you? Tell me she at least talked to you.”
“Yes,” you plead. “But not like this.”
“Not like what, sweetheart?” She begins to move agonizingly slow, rubbing the head of her cock against your clit. Your fingers fumble for purchase in the sheets.
“Not like how you talk to me,” you say, breath tangled.
“That’s such a shame, baby.” She murmurs.
“Please,” you beg her. “Talk to- talk to me, please?”
“I can’t, sweet girl.” She sounds sympathetic. Almost. If she wasn’t being so goddamn mean. She drags her cock back over your slit, coaxing her name from your lips. She finally pushes inside you, and you’re so overstimulated, and after being denied about three orgasms already, just the tip of her cock makes you shiver. Your whole body tenses, seizing up under her when she bottoms out inside you.
Your hands find her shoulders. Your nails dig in there, scratching at her skin, drawing tiny lines of blood when she pulls out of you and thrusts back.
“It’s too bad, too.” She’s muttering. Her mouth hangs by your neck, close enough to kiss you, touch you- but never quite dropping that extra, desperate inch. You feel like you need something else to grab onto, to hold against you. You grab her gold chain with your teeth, biting down on the metal as she babbles. “Because I’d tell you how good you’re being, how much of a good girl you are. I’d tell you how pretty you look taking me.”
You moan. Your hips rock, chasing her cock when she grinds down into you. She drags herself out, dripping onto white sheets, and you gasp at how empty you feel. “Is that what you wanted her to say, hm?”
“Yes,” you whisper. You scratch down her shoulders, trying to pull her back.
She’s stronger than you, though, so she doesn’t budge. Eventually, you have to give up because you’re exerting more energy than you have. You fall back against the pillows with your hands going slack at her shoulders.
It’s only then that she picks back up. She lines her hips with yours and thrusts back into you with a tight, shallow groan. She hits that spongy spot inside you, and you whine into her chest.
“Oh my god,” you mumble. “You-you feel so good.” Heat licks at your core; it spills to your skin and sets you on fire. You’ve lost track of how many orgasms she’s denied you. But the collective build-up is threatening to take you out. “F-faster,” you tell her, urgently. Your fingers dig into her back, spurring her on, clinging to her when she snaps her hips and makes you yelp.
She obliges, muttering against your neck, pounding into you. The slap of skin on skin punches in between your breaths. Your eyes roll. Your vision fogs. “Cass,” you mumble.
“Tell me-” she pleads, hips flexing. “Tell me she made you cum like this, honey.”
“Cassie,” you echo.
“C’mon sweet girl, tell me,” she grits.
“No,” you cry. “No, she didn’t.
“Jesus, baby,” she groans. “You’re breaking my heart, honey.” And then she pulls out, and doesn’t let you cum.
“Cassie, please!” You writhe underneath her. You scratch at her back, her sides, her arms. You leave desperate marks on her skin. “I just want you.” You sob; tears sting your eyes. “Please. I want- fuck, Cassie- I want you.”
Her gaze softens. A sad sort of smile tugs at her lips. She bends to kiss you, soft and slow and not at all like the Cassie you’re used to. You mumble against his mouth, and her tongue dips in to taste you. You lift a shaking hand to trace her jaw. Your finger trembles at the edge of her mouth, holding her lips to you. You keep it there when she breaks the kiss.
“I’m sorry,” she breathes. Her eyes are lighter. They look blue once again. “For everything. I’m sorry.”
Your breath snags. You stare up at her, lips grazing hers, and your heart tugs. “I had to show you; now you show me,” you say softly. “Please, Cassie.”
She nods, dipping her head down to kiss your neck before getting onto her knees on the bed. She unhitches the straps on her hips before casting the whole thing aside. She moves the two of you until your cunt is moving against the top of her thigh, and her cunt is against your thigh.
It makes the two of you look at each other, her entire body relaxing against yours. She blinks at you, her hands skating up your ribcage. You blush. You’re nervous, for some reason. It’s intimate. More intimate than your mouth on her or your palms pressed to Robby’s sink counter, your cheek flat on the mirror.
This is something else. It makes your pulse hitch. “We…um, we didn’t…” You stumble, “this isn’t how we did it.”
Her gaze softens, and her hand moves higher, over your breast and your collar, snaking under your hair to the back of your neck. She pushes there, gently, pressing your chest to hers. “It’s okay. That’s what I want.”
You melt into her. Her hands skate up your back, holding you close.
“I need you,” you say, breathless. “Cassie, please. I want you.”
“Okay,” she murmurs. Her hands slide down to your ass. She lifts your hips and lines you with her thigh. “Okay, sweetheart. I need you too.” She guides your hips down, onto her, and you bury your face in her neck. You hear her stilted groan when you begin to move, as does she. “Fuck,” she mutters.
“Don’t do that again,” you tell her, fingers digging into her forearms as you use the leverage to move faster against her and, in turn, give her more pleasure. “Don’t leave me like that again.”
You grind your hips down, and it has you rutting your leg up against her cunt, which makes her hiss. “Fuck,” she pants. “I won’t, honey, I promise. I won’t.” She reaches her head up, and you kiss her, as the heat in your core starts to swirl again. Cassie nips at your lower lip and your breath stumbles, hips stuttering on her thigh.
You move your hands down to grasp at her ass, making her move faster on you. You do the same, and one of your hands leaves to play with her clit, adding to her already building stimulation. She matches your pace, and your eyes roll. “God, Cass-”
“You’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cum.” She whines. Her arms are wrapped around your back, holding you steady. Your other thigh closes in against hers, making sure she stays on top of you like this.
“Shhhh, it’s okay,” you tell her. “It’s okay. I got you.”
You take over for her, moving and hitting your leg against her clit. You listen as she rests her head in the crook of your neck, whimpering into your skin when she rolls her hips up into you, over and over, again and again, clutching you to her body and making sure you’re getting equal pleasure.
“I- shit- you make me feel so good, baby.”
Your hand comes up to wrap around the back of her neck, clasping her to you as she picks up the pace of her own movements. “Easy, Cass. You’re going to tire yourself out.”
“Fuck, I don’t care,” she mumbles. “I just want to hear you cum.”
“Come for me first,” you murmur. “It’s okay. I got you.”
“It’s not fair,” She whispers. “It wouldn’t be- fuck- it wouldn’t be fair.” She’s shaking her head. “Just come for me, please just come for me.”
So you cum for her. You cum so hard your vision pulls blank. You stop moving on her thigh; your hips jerk as white-hot heat runs rapidly through your body. She nips at your neck, your throat, your jaw, and then her mouth finds yours and she’s kissing the hell out of you.
“Cass,” you have enough air to gasp when her thrusts against your leg falter, and she breaks the kiss so you can speak. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Her chain is still cold against your skin.
Her head tips, and you feel her hips also stutter. Her stomach tightens against yours. She’s close. You loosen your legs before she brings them right back, hips jerking. She thrusts once, twice, and then she’s spilling all over you with a rough, brambled groan. Her head soon rolls forward and thuds against your shoulder bone. Her body twitches.
Your mind is going a thousand miles an hour, and simultaneously, nowhere at all. Your shaking hand reaches up and smooths over some of her hair, soothing the two of you as you try to catch your breath. One of her hands moves out from underneath you and begins to skate up and down your arm. At least you know she’s alive.
“I don’t want you to leave. Stay here. With me.” She begs you, and you have to let out a laugh. “Please.”
“That was the plan.” Your lips whisper the words against her temple. She nods before picking her head up and brushing a stray hair back from your face. Her thumb traces the hollow of your cheek.
“I’ve missed you.” She responds and bends her head back down to kiss you again.
a/n: guys, I flirted with a girl the other night, and I don't think she noticed....I grabbed her hand and everything...and then she invited me to her house 🤭
Summary: Robby throws a Fourth of July party and invites practically everyone from The Pitt. Victoria introduces you to a new face, and Cassie gets too curious
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: reader leans towards having female genitalia, kissing, spitting, drinking mentioned, drinking from other people's bottles, not so subtle flirting, power imbalance(s), talk of an ex being an emotional cheater, mention of Barsantos, jealous!Cassie, angst, feelings get hurt/ignored, etc.
🎵- Human Nature
God, she was so jealous.
Cassie McKay was so jealous.
But she also had no right to be.
You weren’t hers, and she wasn’t yours. Not verbally, anyway. You two had hooked up once or twice, and while she wants more, she turned you down anyway, telling you she wasn’t a good person, it didn’t fit into her life right now, etc. All these excuses were to push you away from her.
But it didn’t work out that way. You pulled her towards you like a magnet, conscious of it or not. Which was hell for her, but of course, you never realized you were doing it. So how could she fully blame you?
It was Fourth of July Weekend. Robby had put on a small party. His backyard was filled with all-day shift attendants, mostly, except for Doctor Shen and Doctor Ellis. Of course, Jack is always where Robby is, so you expected to see his face anyway. However, there were a few strangers she didn’t recognize, and neither did you.
They would come up and shake your hand, pat your back or your shoulders, introducing themselves one after the other. Meanwhile, Cassie just watched, looking on with disdain. Because she wanted to touch you, shake your hand, pat your back, etc. But she couldn’t; that was one of the rules of this whole dynamic between you and her.
No public display of affection.
The walk to Robby’s house was torture. Cassie had dragged her feet the whole way, mute alongside Dana, Perlah, and Princess, because she knew you would be there. The three of them filled the silence enough with inane chatter. Something about…who is she kidding, she wasn’t listening.
She followed them to the front door, through the foyer, and out into the back yard. And there you are. You’re leaning heavily against the fence, a drink in one hand. You perk up when Cassie approaches and tip your drink in an easy drinking.
“Hey, Cass! Long time no see.” You joke, having just seen her a few days ago.
She swallowed, playing it off with a confident smile. “Yeah. Long time no see.”
“R3 now, right?” You muse. “Too smart for me. You’re a primary code leader now, big stuff.”
“Hardly.”
“C’mon.” You bump her shoulder. “You’re overseeing the trauma floor now.”
She eyes you. “Are you actually excited for me? Or is it just to make conversation?”
The corner of your lip quirks. “You can decide.”
“It just comes with a lot more responsibility.”
“Mm.” You look amused, that’s for sure. Cassie watches as you take a long sip of your drink, and her eyes are glued to you as you swallow. “Well, I bet you could teach me a thing or two.” You eye her and keep drinking. She shifts a little in the silence, trying not to scratch at her skin, a nervous tell.
Because she knows you’re flirting. She knows you are. But what can she do about it?
“Can I have a sip?”
She pauses with her Shirley Temple halfway to her lips. Her brow lifts. But she hands the glass over, fingers brushing yours when you reach out to grab it.
“Yeah, of course.” She agrees.
You take a sip in response. “You look pretty.” You tell her. “In case I didn’t say. Meant to tell you earlier.”
You think she almost blushes, which Cassie never does. That’s not a Cassie thing to do. You nod, half to yourself.
“So do you.” She watches you closely, eyes twinkling because you place your mouth directly where hers was just moments ago. She’s almost smiling. Key word being ‘almost’. It fades when she steals a glance over your shoulder. “You have company,” she says, snatching the drink back from your hand.
You turn in time to see Dylan Marsh loping towards you. Twenty-eight, next-door neighbor to you and Robby, ex-girlfriend. And, most importantly, perpetually and persistently, in love with you. You have enough time to wink at her before she approaches.
“Hey,” she says. She turns to Cassie. “Mind if I steal her?”
Cassie’s jaw ticks. “No,” she says, after a moment’s hesitation. “Of course not. Don’t have too much fun.” She sucks in a breath and just stares as Dylan pulls you away. She watches you go with a sinking heart. You turn to look at her over your shoulder, and she swears there’s something in your eyes, but then you blink, and turn away, and it’s gone.
Baran and Trinity have now pulled up beside her.
“Dr. McKay.” Baran nods towards the woman. Cassie lifts her drink in response but says very little else. All she can do is keep her eyes on your frame as you talk excitedly with your ex-girlfriend.
Your hands flare up in certain moments, and it makes Cassie wonder what the two of you are talking about.
From across the yard, you catch Cassie’s eye finally. You give her a slight smile, but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she tries to remain stoic, the best she can, but it has her heart deflating a little when your expression falters.
She finally pulls her eyes away, forcing them to look at Baran and Trinity. “Hey.” She responds eventually.
She felt happier when you were around.
However, you two weren’t in a relationship and never would be. She’s made that clear a thousand times before. And it sucks because she knows how lovely you are. How kind. She loves watching you interact with your patients. Cassie can’t confront her feelings for shit, and she knows that, but if you put her in a room with a patient, she’s trying to relate in every way she can. She’s making jokes when needed, being sympathetic when wanted, she’ll smile and play feelings, but when it comes to you, you two don’t discuss emotions or anything like that; you guys don’t sit in your wallows together.
You just call her up, or she calls you up when you both can’t sleep, which results in you going over to her apartment, or she comes over to yours, and you two have sex, and then one of you leaves. It pulls you down sometimes. It makes you mad.
But it shouldn’t, because you two made rules for this whole agreement.
No touching in public No talking of feelings in private You two won’t develop feelings at all; you can’t (which sort of ties in with number 2) And four, if any of you decide to act on those feelings, you two have to call it off. Period. No excuses.
At first, the rules sounded great. She knew you had gotten out of a relationship with Dylan just a few months ago, and you needed someone else to take your mind off things. But then, over the course of months, she knew she liked you a lot more than just using each other for late-night hookups.
Yeah, she understands she has a 12-year-old kid, and she’s older than you by a mile; it makes it harder that you understand she’s still closed off in a lot of places within herself. She’s closed herself off to romantic relationships for a long time now, but she wants to be the one person you open up to, no matter how toxic that sounds.
Cassie McKay is not a therapist; she’s an ER nurse, and it’s probably a good thing she’s not a therapist because who else would keep them in business? They would make great money on this push-pull thing you and she have going on.
Her thoughts are suddenly squandered when she notices you have begun to walk into Robby’s house, leaving Dylan all by herself. You’re probably just going to the bathroom, but she still keeps an eye out for you and makes sure Dylan doesn’t follow.
“So, how is it being an R4 now?” Trinity asks, trying to make conversation, and Cassie appreciates it. Really, she does.
“Feels like every other day, really.” Cassie shrugs, taking a sip of her soda. She’s not allowed alcohol or anything, per the sanctioned court order, if she ever wants to regain custody of Harrison.
Baran smiles. “Before you know it, you’ll become an attending as well.” She nudges Cassie’s shoulder with her own.
“Kill me if I ever get that far.” Cassie shoots back, which makes both Baran and Trinity laugh. But it’s true for Cassie. She doesn’t think she could ever be an attending. It looks like it sucks the life out of anyone who inherits the title. Robby has gone on sabbatical for 3 months, which is fair enough, Baran looks exhausted constantly, and everyone is pretty sure the only thing that holds her up is getting to go home to Trinity every night, but Cassie has no one to go home to and she has never been on vacation since Harrison was born so she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if presented the opportunity.
You still haven’t come out of the house, and now Cassie is fidgeting with her hands. Dylan is still out in the yard, conversing with John Shen and Parker Ellis, so there’s no chance you’re waiting for her up there. Maybe you had too much to drink, and you’re currently keeling over the toilet. Or maybe you just got lost. Robby has a big-ish house; it would be easy.
Either way, Cassie doesn’t like the fact that you’re alone in there, so she’s excusing herself from Baran and Trinity for a moment. “Sorry, ladies, bathroom calls.” Cassie walks into the house, the waning sunlight glittering through the windows.
She can’t hear you, per se, but she can smell you. The fragrance you’re wearing drifts through the house and leads her to a bathroom on the second floor. It’s at the end of a hallway.
She knocks lightly before pressing her ear to the door. She listens to you scramble through the bathroom, reaching for the handle before swinging it open, and Cassie pushes herself back so as not to look too suspicious.
“You okay?” She asks. “I saw you walk off from Dylan down there.” She cocks her head in the direction of the backyard. “You looked anxious.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just hiding in here.” You shrug, and Cassie’s nodding. You have no reason to lie to her; you know she’d understand where you’re coming from.
“Yeah, I get that.” She sighs, smiling at you. She looks around the room before saying, “Can I hide, too?”
“Oh, sure. I mean, it’s not my house, come on in.” You step back and let her push inside. You’re locking the door again and pushing yourself through the window to sit on the roof once more.
Without a second thought, Cassie follows, grumbling as she makes it onto the roof.
“Fuck, I’m too old for this,” she mutters.
You laugh, watching as she stumbles over to join you. It’s darker now, the pink sunset has dissipated, replaced with darker blue hues of the incoming night. She makes it to your side and drops down next to you with a sigh.
“I hate parties,” she blurts, after a moment’s silence.
You hum appreciatively. “Yeah.”
More silence.
“What happened between you and Dylan down there?”
Your head whips to her. “Nothing. I just needed to get away for a moment.”
“You sure?” She’s certainly not going to let this go.
You sigh, staring out at the sky now dotted with tiny, twinkling stars. “I don’t know why Robby invited her. We broke up on okay terms, but… It’s just a lot to look at her sometimes. And she acts as if nothing happened between us. Nothing did, really. I had just found out she was having an emotional affair with someone during medical school.”
“Ah, yeah. That’ll do it.” She sucks in a breath through her teeth as she says the words.
You nod, “yeah.”
“Well, any other woman that give you a hard time, you send them my way.” It’s a little forward to say, but who is Cassie McKay if not forward? She watches you laugh then, shaking your head. “So,” she continues. “Dylan,” she holds a finger out, counting. “Anyone else I have to watch out for?”
“Since when are you interested in my love life?”
“I’m just making conversation with my favorite ped’s nurse,” she argues.
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at the question. “And one you happen to sleep with.” You comment, and she huffs a chuckle. “No one at the ER, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She can read your tone. It’s not exactly subtle. “So there is someone,” she says.
“It’s nothing.” You glance away from her. She glances at your swinging feet and watches the tips of your shoes.
“Have you…told them how you feel?”
“No. God, no.” You shake your head.
“No,” Cassie repeats. She sounds amused. “Why not?”
“It’s complicated,” you say, a little sharper than you intend. “I mean…just…look, it doesn’t matter, okay? Let’s just…”
“Okay. Alright, hun.” She hoists her hands in mock surrender. But there’s something else in her eyes- something darker. It’s gone before she can blink.
“How’s Harrison?” You ask. It’s a terrible attempt at a tone shift, but she lets it go. She shrugs.
“You know, a 13-year-old boy. He’s okay. But I think he misses having you around.”
Your heart tugs a little. “Yeah. I miss him too. I feel kind of bad not being able to see him as frequently.”
Cassie nudges your leg with hers. “Don’t worry about him,” she says. “He does fine enough.”
You nod. It’s suddenly painfully obvious how close she is- how her shoulder brushes yours; how her shoes are pressed inches away from your own.
“We should probably go back down,” she comments. “People will realize we’re missing.”
Her gaze lingers half a second longer. “Yeah, I guess so,” you agree. Cassie stands, brushing off her pants, and offers you her hand. You take it. She helps you up, and your hand stays in hers for a split-second longer than it should. Just long enough for your breath to catch.
“Do we have to?” You ask, your eyes looking down at her lips.
“Yeah, baby.” She whispers, looking down at your lips too. “We have to.”
“I’d really rather stay in this bathroom with you.” You confess to her. “I know you’re jealous. When I talk to Dylan. I can feel it.”
“I’m not jealous.” She shakes her head like it’s a crazy notion. Her hands make the unconscious decision to slip down to your arms. “I’m never jealous.” Cassie tries to argue.
“Yes, you are.”
“You’re drunk. You don’t know-” Now that might be a little toxic to say. She knows you’re not drunk, she knows. But she doesn’t want this to happen again. There have been so many instances where the two of you have become somewhat estranged, just to fall into each other once more, and before the two of you know it, you’re both hurting one another again.
“I’ve had one beer, maybe. Not even. I’m not drunk. I know what I’m saying, Cass.” You cut her off, arguing your point. You’re crossing your arms, making her drop her hands from them.
“No, no, I’m not trying to dismiss you, I’m…okay, maybe that’s what I’m doing, but I’m not trying to, okay? I’m…I’m trying to tell you I really do too, baby, but we can’t right now. Dylan seems…really nice!”
You roll your eyes. “She is. But she’s not who I want.”
Cassie sighs, her lips pulling into a straight line. “I know.” She whispers.
But you understand, too. You can’t adopt this routine again. However, even though you keep repeating in your head that you can’t do it, you can’t have feelings like this for her, you lean in slightly, looking at her with sad eyes as you silently beg for her to kiss you.
You end up dropping your head to her shoulder, whispering an ‘I’m sorry’, over and over and over again. You take a step away from her, going to turn around when she grabs you by the wrist.
“No, no, no, no. Hey, hey, come here.” She coerces you back to her before hesitantly leaning in. And you think maybe this time she will kiss you, but she instead presses her lips to your forehead. “You look really good tonight.” She tells you, as she moves past you, leaving you in the bathroom.
You huff a laugh, once again rolling your eyes, but Cassie is not there to see it. You slowly make your way back down to the now dark house and out into the backyard, surrounded by string lights and candles.
You’re feeling low, now. Like everything has been drained from you. You want to leave, and you might, you might pull an Irish goodbye and text Trinity and Dennis and Vic that you got home okay, but you weren’t feeling it anymore. And you would send a text to Robby, wishing him a Happy 4th.
That sounded like a great idea. Except Victoria had other plans for you.
“Hey!” She runs up to you in heels somehow. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”
“Vic, I don’t-”
“It’ll be fun! She’s interested in meeting you, trust me.” She’s grabbing your hand and pulling you across the yard. You drag your feet the whole way, trying to stall as much as possible. Vic loves to do this, introduce you to people she thinks you’ll like. And most of the time you do, but it never goes any further than a one night stand as your feelings drag themselves back and stick onto one person in particular.
“Victoria, I really can’t-”
“Doctor Lorenz!” she cuts you off immediately, shouting the woman’s name to grab her attention. The supposed Doctor is dressed in a nice striped tank top, some bell-bottom jeans, sandals on her feet, and curls in her hair. “This is our favorite Peds nurse I was telling you about!”
The woman turns around, and you’re almost awe-struck. She’s….really pretty. Like unfairly pretty. Like Baran Al-Hashimi, unfairly pretty. She has big, brown doe eyes, the perfect set of lips that are shining in the overhead lights, and her nose is arched. There’s a small indent on her chin, and a little dimple that shows in time with her smile.
You stand in front of the older woman, putting on your best smile in return. “Hello, Doctor Lorenz.”
“Ah, yes. Victoria here has been non-stop talking about you.” She smiles as well, and it’s a nice, warm, beautiful thing. You feel something warm begin to swirl inside you.
“I hope all good things.” You joke, and she laughs, reaching out to touch your arm. The action makes you feel good.
“Of course! Nothing but good things.” She insists.
The two of you fall into easy conversation. Turns out, Victoria had asked Doctor Lorenz if there were any openings at Boston Children’s Hospital, and if you could tour it one day. It would be your dream to work there, as it’s one of the best Pediatric Hospitals in the US, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of opportunities that type of job would bring you.
From your peripheral vision, however, you can see Cassie standing around, keeping a watchful eye on you. It somewhat infuriates you, because why should she? She has no right. She has no right to you, or to survey you from that far a distance. Actually, she doesn’t have the right to watch you with such a keen eye at all.
An idea starts to form.
It’s not a good one at all. Matter of fact, it’s downright terrible. But you make the excuse that the alcohol is getting to you, and something about the way she looked at you, the way she hesitated before kissing you on the forehead, the way she sat with you on the roof, so close- all of it is telling you to do it.
You need to make Cassie McKay jealous.
So- fuck it. You do.
“What’s that you got?” You ask Doctor Lorenz, and she glances down at her bottle.
“Oh! Smirnoff. Really good. I had originally asked Robby to pick some up for this party tonight, but I decided to just bring some. There are a few left! You want to try some?”
“I’d love to. Can I…try yours?” You question, and Doctor Lorenz holds the bottle out to you. You grab the neck of it. Before you can tip it back, your eyes make contact with Cassie’s across the room. She looks so ticked off, her jaw seems clenched, and she has an iron grip on her soda.
Your eyes rip away from hers to focus on Doctor Lorenz’s, and they’re staring back at you, intently at that. You put the opening of the bottle up to your lips and take a swig, and you swear you watch her pupils dilate, but it could just be the lighting.
You’re giving it back to Doctor Lorenz once you take a few sips. Wiping the back of your mouth, you hum. “Wow. That is really good, you were right.” You chuckle, and so does she.
“Right? I think there are a few more in the cooler over there,” she cocks her head towards a red cooler with a white top, sitting near Cassie, funnily enough. “But you can have some of mine anytime you want.”
You look up at her. Yes. Look up. She has to be at least 5’11, and while you think you have a good length on you, you’re not that tall. And she has to be at least ten years older than you.
And you know she’s making Cassie envious.
Now, is this completely unprofessional? Absolutely. And it’s wrong to use this woman in this way, to make your friend with benefits, Cassie McKay, jealous. But Doctor Lorenz obviously wants this to continue as her hand brushes your arm. And not in an absentminded way that’s for sure. However, you feel Cassie before you see her.
She’s at your side now, slinking there like a shadow. Brooding, quiet, five foot five of her.
“Oh! Doctor Lorenz, this is our R4, Cassie McKay.” You introduce them to one another, and they exchange a cordial enough greeting.
“Hi. Hey, can you help me with something?” Cassie is trying so hard not to seem upset. “Robby needs an extra hand with the margarita mixer machine.”
“Yeah, of course. I’m so sorry, Doctor Lorenz, I have to lend a helping hand in the kitchen for a little bit, but I look forward to talking with you more!” You can feel Cassie’s hands slide underneath your shirt. They’re warm on your back. But then they slip down to one of your pant loops and hook around it.
Cassie is so angry she’s practically fuming. She feels hot all over, watching you with that woman. She drags you past coworkers and friends and strangers alike into Robby’s house. She pushes the two of you past the kitchen, past the margarita mixer, upstairs into the bathroom that the two of you had just practically left.
She shuts the door and locks it.
You swallow.
She’s so close you can taste her: her breath on your lips and her scent in your nose, soda and something so distinctly Cassie. The silence is suffocating. You lean up against the counter and wrap your fingers on the ledge.
She slowly moves to stand in front of you, placing herself up against your body. Her hand slinks behind you, turning the sink’s faucet on. Then she stills, her mouth so incredibly close to your neck that you begin to tip your head back.
She lets the tap run, drowning out the sound from beyond the door. It’s not like anyone else is in the house, but still. You feel her breath heaving against your skin before she finally leans forward and connects her lips to your neck.
Your fingers curl on cool granite. Her hands push you back, into the counter, and the edge of the stone bites into your spine. “Did that get you off?” She asks suddenly. “Flirting with her?”
Her strap crowds your hips, nudging at your core.
“Sorry,” you gasp, but you’re not, really- you did it on purpose, riled her up, and a part of you thinks it’s because you know this would happen. “I’m sorry- fuck.”
“I asked you a question, baby.” She murmurs, rolling her hips into yours, and you gasp. “You need it that bad, you’re that fucking desperate, you go to someone else?” She licks her tongue up your neck, moving to the front of your throat, and stopping at your chin.
Her hand slips under your shirt and splays at your ribcage. Her fingertips move higher, skating up your skin, grazing your nipple. You whine softly, trying to lift your hips off the counter as you chase her cock.
The hand on your waist clamps tighter.
“Open your mouth,” she says.
You stop wriggling. You part your lips for her, and her hand leaves your hip, coming up to wrap around your throat. You watch her thumb settle on the edge of your jaw. It digs into the skin there, kneading gently, forcing your gaze to her. Her index and middle fingers tug at your lip and dip into your mouth.
She raises herself to get a better angle before gathering spit into her mouth and dropping it onto your tongue. You swallow with a whimper before she finally kisses you, tongue and all.
Cassie doesn’t make any noise during the whole thing, but you sound like heaven to her ears. You whine against her lips, moan, whimper, every noise she could come up with, you produce from your throat.
She likes it so much that she wants more. Much more, if you’re willing to give them.
However, you’re pulling away before she can flip the two of you around.
“Stop, stop, stop.” You’re both heaving, chests rising up and down in tandem. Your hand is placed directly in the center of Cassie’s breasts, holding her a few feet away.
“Are you okay?” She hears herself asking.
“I don’t want to do this if it’s going to end up in a one-night stand. I ca-can’t do it, Cassie. I can’t do it anymore.” Your eyes look so sad as they focus on her blue ones.
She knows what you mean. And neither can she. But that would put her in a vulnerable position. A position she hasn’t been in for a long time now. She doesn’t quite know what to do. She’s caught in a crossroads of sorts.
“Then we shouldn’t go any further.” She tells you, and watches as your face falls.
“Fine. Then we’re done? Done, done? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Done, done. Just like that.” The words don’t even sound like something she would actively say out loud. She knows you don’t want to stop this. And she knows herself that she doesn’t want to stop this. But she really can’t. She just can’t.
“Right.” You nod, and she watches as your eyes brim with tears. “Fuck you, Cass,” you mutter before unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open, stepping through before slamming it closed. She exhales a shaky breath, bending herself over to rest her hands on her knees.
It’s like she’s somehow stabbed herself, right in the heart. She feels like she might throw up, too. Her arms wrap around her middle. She’s acting so stupid, she thinks to herself, because she’s the one who could’ve just said the right words. However, the voice inside her head took over, and soon enough she was agreeing to something she couldn’t let go of just yet.
a/n: Hi guys!! I'm back!! Sorry, I was gone for some time (I'm sure ya'll didn't even notice LMFAO), but I went on a trip with my gorgeous, beautiful mom to London!! And yes, it was to see Harry Styles. And I got barricade (first time I've ever gotten barricade for anyone) and it was hot as well, thought I was gonna pass out, but I didn't! And don't even get me started on Harry, he was hot as ever, literally passed by me three times, and everything. But I'm back to writing now, I promise!!
