#bisexual reader

Azul Ashengrotto

The twins had warned you with matching mischievous grins, a potions accident had turned Azul into a woman for the next 24 hours. You wasted no time heading straight to his room.

“Azul, please let me in!” you called gently through the door.

“I look ridiculous!” came his voice from the other side, still unmistakably his, but lighter and softer. “You’re just going to laugh at me. I won’t be leaving this room until the potion wears off.”

“Azul, I would never make fun of you. Please?”

After several long minutes of gentle coaxing, the door finally cracked open.

Your brain short circuited.

Azul stood there, arms crossed defensively. Long, silky hair framed a stunning face, full lips, rosy cheeks, long lashes framing those familiar sharp eyes. He looked beautiful.

Lord have mercy.

“…See? I look like a joke!” he muttered, cheeks already turning pink.

You stepped inside, closed the door, and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re dumb if you think that. You look just as breathtaking as you always do. But with a feminine touch.”

Azul’s entire face flushed crimson. The sight of him blushing so prettily as a girl was dangerously adorable. “S-Stop saying such things…” he stammered, trying to look away, but you held his cheeks firmly.

You couldn’t help yourself. You started kissing him, soft little pecks all over his forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally his lips. Each kiss made him more flustered, his new feminine voice letting out tiny embarrassed sounds that were unfairly cute.

“You’re going to kill me…” he whispered, hiding his burning face against your shoulder. Azul made a mortified little noise but didn’t pull away.

Jade Leech

Jade seemed remarkably unbothered by the transformation. You found him in his room, standing in front of the mirror and admiring his new form. The potion had given him long, flowing hair and a tall, elegant model like figure. He still moved with that same graceful, slightly dangerous for your poor heart.

You were sitting on his bed, staring. Jade caught your gaze in the mirror reflection and turned around with a knowing smile. “Do you find this form attractive?” he asked, voice still smooth but noticeably higher.

You nodded, a faint blush creeping up your neck. “Of course I do. You’re my boyfriend… or girlfriend right now? It’s a little confusing, but yes. Very attractive.”

Jade grin widened as he walked closer. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look directly at him. Your blush deepened. “You’re enjoying this accident quite a bit more than expected.” he teased, voice low and playful.

Your brain went into full gay panic.

“You’re pretty, okay?! It’s not my fault!”

Jade chuckled softly and leaned in, pressing a light, teasing kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling back just as quickly.

“This little accident has taken a rather interesting turn I must say.” he murmured, eyes glittering with mischief. “I believe I’m going to enjoy seeing how you react to me like this.”

You were absolutely cooked.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was a chaotic mix of annoyed and intrigued by his new body. He kept poking at his own chest and complaining about the “extra weight” while also admiring his hips in the mirror.

You were trying to help him adjust his uniform when he suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He looked down at you with that signature sharp grin, now on a strikingly pretty face.

“You like girls too, right~?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yes…?”

His smile stretched wide. “Then it’s your lucky day, Shrimpy.”

You sighed “Floyd, don’t mess around…”

He whined, and the sound coming from his new girly voice was weirdly hot. “Come on~ We gotta make the most of it while it lasts!”

Before you could protest further, he cupped the back of your neck, and kissed you hard. One hand stayed on your waist while the other tangled in your hair, pulling you flush against his new curves.

When he finally pulled back, he was ready to tease you more, until he noticed your bright red face and the nosebleed dripping down.

“Eh~? Shrimpy’s nose is bleeding!” He laughed loudly, delighted. “You’re so cute when you get overwhelmed. This is gonna be so much fun~”

He didn’t let you go, still grinning like a shark who’d found new prey.

Your breathing is shallow and breathy as you stand with your back against the cold wall, palms flat against the surface on either side of your hips. Your chest is raised, but it’s far from a confident posture; it’s all you can do in an attempt to cower away.

But you don’t do anything to stop it, do you? No, you never have, not even once since this began. Whatever this was.

You didn’t need to dwell on the beginnings, and you had no clear mind to do so, either. Every time felt like the first anyway. Like you’d never before felt so exposed, so vulnerable and undone, all at the hands of the cold and calculated evil that was your boss. 

Albert Wesker. It felt like knowing god’s full name. It’d be sacrilege to speak it, especially since you were merely his personal secretary, though how you landed the job, you’d never know. You primarily called him sir; it felt too weighted most days to even call him Mister Wesker, like the extra syllables might waste his time and earn you his contempt, and most days you were scared to so much as pique his attention. Whenever he took too much notice of you, there was a short list of what might follow. 

Today, he did take notice. His sharp eyes noticed everything. You should’ve known better than to buy yourself new clothes. Now here you were with them dishelved and askew.

Three too many buttons were undone on your dress shirt, which was already more low-cut than it looked on the department store hanger, much to your dismay. It exposed the dark lace bra that was meant to hide your breasts; now they’d been pulled out just enough for your nipples to peek above it, the scratchy lace rubbing the buds of them hard. Your charcoal pencil skirt, once crisp and freshly ironed, was now pushed up past your hips. Your sheer pantyhose were rolled down around your thighs, the elastic binding them tight together, kept your legs from spreading where you stood. It should’ve been a good thing, should’ve made you feel like you could keep him out, but it only kept his strong hand wedged between your legs. It made your walls a touch tighter around his digits, just enough to make a difference, to make it feel ever so slightly better.

“My little secretary…” Wesker cooed, though the sweet tone was a thin charade. Much more taunting than endearing as he curled his fingers into your cunt. “You should see yourself. Aren’t you such a little whore?”

Your breath hitched as he drew them in and out again, suffocatingly slow, only enough to make you dizzy. You never had to wonder if he made you feel that way on purpose; Driving you up a wall, making you come undone like it was easy for him, eating away at your shyness until it turned to desperation— that was the whole point.

It wasn’t a rhetorical question, and it took nothing more than his free hand pushing just under your neck to remind you to obey. It wasn’t forceful— not yet, at least— but with what those hands were capable of? It felt like a loaded gun aimed straight at your aorta. 

“Yes,” you managed, a meek and quiet sound, followed by a gulp in your dry throat. “I’m your whore, sir.” 

He hummed and gently tapped your cheek, a pantomime of a slap, just to let you know he chose not to hurt you. It felt chiding and affectionate all at once, and it nearly made your knees buckle. 

You shifted your feet in your heels to regain a little balance, and it gave you an ounce of clarity, enough to think of the practicalities. About the job you were still on the clock for, the reason you entered his office in the first place. It came out as trembling as your legs.

“Y-you have a meeting, sir. She’ll be sent in at an– any minute.” 

You watched his face for signs of acceptance, but darkness dawned in his eyes. You should’ve known better, but you were in a double bind. Risk being walked in on in this state, or offend him by suggesting he stop. As his hand flexed and turned more fierce, you knew you’d assured both.   

“Let her,” he grit. It was safe to say you’d made him mad. “You think I care who walks in? I’ll send pictures to the whole office just to put you in your place.”

His posture straightened to tower over you and cover you in his shadow, now too close to ignore any part of him. You succumbed to how intoxicating he truly was to you. The clean, smooth scent of his skin, just a hint of spice underneath the notes of cotton and balm. Every out-of-place strand of his wheat hair you could only see from this up close. The shadows under his cheekbones and in his five o’clock shadow. The creases between his knit brows and the intensity in his topaz eyes.

He fucked you unforgivingly with his hand, and you couldn’t help but hold onto his arms just to keep yourself upright. The flat of his palm slapped firmly against your clit every time they plunged inside. The sounds were sloppy, wet, and crude as they echoed in the room. 

But it wasn’t to urge you to orgasm before he could be interrupted; he’d never give it to you that easily. No, this was a punishment, the best kind he’d ever be capable of. 

He added another finger, pressed them in knuckle deep, and pulsed them quickly against your walls. You choked and gasped, you slightly rose a knee to keen into his touch, your eyes bulging at how he was able to keep you right on the cusp of cumming, and for a second, you thought he might let you.

Then, the door clicked shut. 

You jolted and held onto him tighter, making yourself small as your eyes widened now in consternation. You were suddenly grateful for the way he towered around you since it gave you somewhere to hide. 

His hand had stopped completely at the sound, though he hadn’t yet turned away. He was still as he stared down at you with an unreadable gaze. Then he smirked at you and turned his head to greet whoever had entered.

“Am I interrupting something?” 

To your surprise, the woman spoke first. You couldn’t read the tone in her voice either, but from the glimpse you caught from behind Wesker, you could see that her arms were crossed. 

She didn’t sound very impressed, but she didn’t seem all that surprised, either. Unimpressed, maybe. More likely, she was intentionally hiding any reaction at all. It was safe to assume as much from who she was. If you hadn’t known Wesker’s schedule, you’d know her instantly by the red fabric you saw. 

It was Ada Wong, who, much to your dismay, had arrived right on time for her pre-mission briefing.   

“Nothing important,” Wesker replied, and suddenly curled his fingers against your g-spot just to make you writhe. “I was just wrapping up.” 

His tone was so casual, as if this happened all the time; which to be fair, it did, but being walked in on wasn’t routine. He truly had inhuman levels of shamelessness. You, however, felt every ounce of mortification a person in your situation should. 

You heard a few clicks of Ada’s heels as she smoothly approached. The sound made your gut tighten. As she got closer, you could see her face, and you felt hot and cold all over.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I guess I’m late to the show.”

The first hint of emotion she showed was in her sense of entertainment. Your brows knit in confusion as you peeked back towards your boss, who was as unfazed as ever, except for a glint of devilment. 

They continued talking as if you weren’t in the same room, as if being skewered on his fingers was a commonplace sight to see. 

“Is this the kind of show you like, Miss Wong?”

She hummed as she considered the question and took a few steps closer. Her face was fully in view now as she looked you up and down, and you shied away from her as she appraised you. 

You know when a chef at a fine dining restaurant presents you with a raw steak before it's cooked to make sure you approve of the cut? You were that piece of meat right now, and you felt the flames of the grill grow high. 

“Might be,” she mused, “it’s hard to see with you in the way.”

She met his gaze with a cocky tilt of her head. A heavy pause held in the air, and then Wesker leaned away. But his fingers didn’t leave you. Instead, you were now totally exposed as he fingered you once more, this time achingly slow. 

You dug your fingernails into the wall behind you as your psyche shattered at the situation. You didn’t know where to look. You watched his fingers disappear inside of you and leisurely pull out, and your face burned at the slick that covered them. You looked up at Wesker’s face and felt like a deer in the headlights when you met his eyes. You glanced to the side at Ada and found her watching your aching cunt. 

There was nowhere you could look that didn’t make you want to run. But underneath it, you knew you never would. 

The truth was that you liked it. The mortification in your gut fused into one with the desire that ached behind your navel. Putting on such a pitiful display of lust made you feel beyond desirable. It’s why you never fought Wesker off when he touched you, despite how you shied away each time, and he knew that all too well. And somehow Ada knew that you’d open yourself up for her, too.

Though it was probably an easy guess, since you arched needily into his touch even as a stranger watched. 

“What a sweet little pet she is,” Ada remarked.

“She is, isn’t she? She tastes even sweeter.”

“Does she now?”

You shuddered as he fully retracted his fingers and held them in front of him. 

“Perhaps you’d like to try.”

“I’m not sucking her off your fingers,” Ada scoffed.

“Very well.” 

He was above the act today, too, apparently. He normally had no issue licking them clean of your juices, but that wasn’t what he wanted right now. He took a step towards you and softly pushed them into your mouth.

You moaned softly as you were made to wrap your lips around three thick fingers. Your eyes closed as you made careful work of tonguing in between them to clean off every drop— he trained you to do each task meticulously, and it was instinct to do so now. 

In that brief moment of darkness behind your eyelids, you forgot about everything else, only focused on the task he gave you. Then you felt two soft hands fall on either side of your hips, and you opened them to find that Ada was in front of you. Her gaze darted between your mouth and your eyes, and you thought she almost looked kind. 

“Are you in the mood to share, Wesker?”

His fingers retracted to pull down on your lower lip as he chuckled. “Go ahead. She doesn’t seem to mind.”

He cocked his head at you to rub the observation in. As Ada sank down to her knees, you realized just how right he was. You were trembling with anticipation as her face drew nearer and nearer to your cunt. 

You gasped as the pointed end of her tongue prodded between your folds. Standing like you were, each introductory lap grazed easily over your clit, and you twitched every time, hips involuntarily moving towards her face. She held them more firmly in her hands to keep them against the wall as she dove in with more concerted effort, tongue licking up the slick that’d already dripped from your hole. You couldn’t help but whine at how pretty her lips looked as they sucked against your clit.

Meanwhile, Wesker added his fingers back into your mouth, but only two this time. The only purpose of the motion was to remind you who’s in control.

He was flush against you, pressing his growing erection against your side and whispering into your ear, his warm breath drawing a tingle across your skin.

“Where were we… ah, that’s right… we were talking about how much of a whore you are. Look at you now, letting a stranger eat you out just because I let her. What a filthy thing you are.” 

His fingers pressed against your tongue as he continued on, his senses honed in on the way it made your heart beat violently behind your ribs. 

“Do you want more? Want me to replace my fingers with something else? Make you choke on my cock while she eats you out?”

Your groan was muffled around his fingers, but he accepted the response. “Show her how well I have you trained to take me,” he whispered into your ear, and then withdrew his fingers as he looked down to Ada. He led her mouth away from you with a hand on her shoulder, and then he spoke to her. “Lie down on your back, Miss Wong.”

Her lips were puffy and wet, and she had a momentary look of confusion on her face before she acquiesced. Then his attention was back on you. 

“Sit on her face.”

You froze in shock as the gears turned. You’d never done such a thing before, and never thought that you’d do so in a situation like this. A subtle snarl appeared on his lips and then he pinched one of your nipples sharply, a warning to listen. 

You were feeble as you stepped over her and awkward as you lowered down. She grabbed the top of your thighs to guide you towards her, and you grabbed onto Wesker’s thighs as she dove in with no further pretense. 

You’d never felt so electric in your life. Ada made out with your cunt so expertly that you were already shaking around her. You panted and looked ahead, face level with the sight of your boss undoing his zipper and pulling his cock free, his whole length springing forward and tip bouncing against your chin. With one hand on the back of your head and the other guiding himself by the base, he smeared his precum on your lower lip before pushing himself inside. 

Every inch of hardness you took into your mouth doubled your pleasure. You couldn’t think straight, could hardly even breathe around his girth, and you couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Every twitch and jolt caused by her tongue breaching your entrance and her nose against your clit made you move just enough to unintentionally ride her face. 

With a stiff grunt, Wesker thrust his hips forward and knocked against the back of your throat. You croaked around it, but you didn’t gag; as big as he was, you were used to much more than his current steady pace. You steeled your focus as his hand gripped harder into your hair and he moved faster, flattening your tongue as a barrier from your teeth, holding tightly onto his slacks to ward away the urge to cough. The concentration it took helped you bear the violent pleasure you felt below.

But the mental aspect, the fact that you were actually in this position, completely at their mercy as you perched upon your knees— that made you delirious. You’d slipped so easily into a state of mind where you were comforted by the fact that they held you at their mercy for no reason other than that they enjoyed it.

You squeezed your eyes tight as tears began to prick them from the quickening force against your throat. Your jaw was smarting from holding it wide open and your hips were soring from how tense they held you over Ada’s face, too unsure of yourself to fully sit down despite her constantly pulling you in. 

You were becoming a mess already. Saliva dripped down your chin from where it escaped around the clean and salty skin of his cock, and mascara was undoubtedly smudging from your wet lashes. You moaned around him as Ada flicked her tongue quickly against your clit, and your hips curled forward to meet the feeling. Your cunt fluttered around nothing as your orgasm neared and neared, and your mouth was too full to warn them. 

But Wesker knew you well enough to see the signs. He pulled his cock out abruptly and pulled you up by the hair, just enough to make you whine as you had to rise off of her face. You were panting open-mouthed as you ached with denied release, a thick string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock. 

“Stand up,” he commanded, and you followed the further force on your hair that pulled you to your feet. He led you by it until you were bent over his desk. You planted your palms on it and used the time you had to catch your breath. You knew you wouldn’t spend long untouched, so it was an opportunity you had to seize. 

You felt more exposed than ever as you bent there, skirt still above your hips, cunt winking in the cold air. You were surprised at how quiet they were as Wesker left your side, and you wondered if he was helping her off the ground. More likely, they were plotting their next moves with nothing more than knowing looks.

Your guesses were interrupted by Ada slinking in front on you to sit on the edge of the desk. She hardly looked affected at all. It made you notice every breathtaking detail of her appearance. Her short and sleek black hair was still neatly tucked behind her ears, her pink lips only had a faint sheen of your slick that glimmered like fine gloss. The curves of her body were accentuated by the red weave of her dress that hugged her like a second skin, and although she’d been buried between your legs moments earlier, you were jealous of the fabric for being flush against her skin. Her makeup was still intact, where you were sure your own was far from it. 

If that wasn’t enough to make you crumble, the way she sat within your reach made your blood rise to your cheeks. Her weight leaned on one hip, a boot-clad leg crossed over her knee, and resting back on her arms, she looked down on you with a sultry amusement. Like she was curious about you in a way that made you want to exceed her expectations, which you very much did, for whatever she had in store for you. 

Wesker’s gravelly voice shocked you out of your doe-eyed stare at the woman above.

“Return the favor,” is all he said.

Ada chuckled at his bluntness, and you looked back up to her.

“He seemed to enjoy your mouth quite a lot. Why don’t you show me what it can do? If it’s not too tired already…”

She unparted her legs and spread them in front of you, now fully sat on the top of his desk, important paperwork be damned. It was insane to you how she gave no care at all for the very setting you had to treat with complete reverence. But you thought about that less as she ran a hand down her body, tracing every curve and valley of her breasts and stomach and hips, until she hooked her fingers around her panties and pulled them to the side. 

You whined at the sight and she smiled at your reaction. It was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. Acutely wet between her small pink folds, the skin smooth and soft, a tasteful patch of trimmed hair adorning it at the top. 

She keened towards your face as you stared, and now it was inches away. All that was left to do is what you were asked and hope she thought you were good at it. 

You leaned forward and licked it once and shuddered at the sweet, tart taste, enough that you had to pause as you wrapped your mind around how good she was. You went back in just as she had, first with the point of your tongue, using it to part between her folds and trace up until you heard a reaction. Her breath hitched and you honed in on the spot until you were certain you were where she needed to be, circling and flicking your tongue around the small bundle of nerves of her clit. 

When she sighed and pushed herself into you more, you went back in with more avidity, lapping at her cunt with open-mouthed kisses and licks and sucking out the wetness that collected. She hummed and tilted her head back as you continued and the sign of approval went straight to your own center.

You felt every piece as sensitive as you were from two denied orgasms in a row. It made your toes curl in your heels and made you fervent to get her off. Partially for the honor of tasting her cum, and for the hope of doing well enough to earn your own orgasm.

Just as you were finding your rhythm, something disturbed it: the thick head of a cock suddenly pressing into your cunt. The surprise made you gasp and your tongue lose its rhythm as Wesker slowly pushed the tip inside. You straightened your legs to arch back into it, but he didn’t give you any more. 

“Do you want it?” 

You nodded sharply and hummed, your tongue running up and down Ada’s pussy as you did. As if you’d say anything but yes. 

He pulled the tip out just enough to run it up and down the hot wet center of your folds. 

“Has she earned it, Ada?”

You focused back on her, running the flat of your tongue eagerly around her clit in the way she seemed to like in an effort to earn her approval. 

“She’s getting there,” she breathed, toying with your desperation as she swiveled her hips around your face. “She just needs some motivation.”

She was so different from Wesker, and yet she was just as skilled at toying with your needs and dangling them in front of you on a string. You didn’t know if her words would be enough to make him give you what you were close to begging for without even being asked to. But evidently, he’d been convinced.

You groaned as he pushed in, slowly, then all at once. The friction of it sent your eyes rolling back and your knees shaking, but he held you firmly by the hips as he buried himself to the hilt. The way he did it so easily, so soundlessly, as if he wasn’t affected at all— it made you look and feel that much more discomposed in comparison. 

You grasped onto Ada’s parted thighs as what lay in between them muffled the groan that reverberated in your throat as he drew back and in again. You struggled to keep your mouth latched onto her in the way you wanted to. Instead, it opened to pant and whine, face hovering over her cunt and grazing it again when each new thrust pushed you forward. 

She laughed airily at the sight and pulled you in by the back of your head. You moaned as she held you there to continue licking her, much sloppier now as Wesker quickened his pace and taunted you from behind. 

“Is this what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck your face into her cunt?” 

She let you detach just long enough to say, “yes, yes, oh please,” before she held you flush to her again. She then leaned back further on the desk, propped up only by an elbow as she started grinding into your tongue. 

You shuddered as Wesker continued in his brutal steadiness. You could feel your release building with every rut of his long, thick cock against your tight walls, and you ached for him to go faster, to give you just a little bit more so that you’d tumble over the edge, for him to grant you the peak of pleasure. Surely he could feel how much you wanted it from the way you pulsed around him, how you tried to rut back to meet him, how your moans shattered in your mouth. But he never gave it to you so freely; no, it had to be deserved.

Today, he wanted you to deserve it, or maybe he wanted to reach his own end. With a stiff grunt, he leaned over you, thrusting even deeper, and his hand pushed down on the top of your spine. 

“Be good and make her cum.”

It was all you needed for your own pleasure to fuel the hungry way you ate her with a touch more intention. You clamored to readjust to add your fingers into her— the other still tightly gripping the meat of her thigh— and brashly worked them in while your mouth honed in on her clit. She gasped as you curled them just so and kept pressing them against that spot until her legs began to tremble on either side of your face and her heavy breathing turned into whines that were higher in pitch each time. 

Nothing had ever motivated you like the knowledge that you were making her close. You flicked your tongue quickly over her clit, and then you sucked sharply on it again, and you could feel her walls clench around your fingers. As Wesker quickened into a smacking speed behind you, you fought against it becoming a distraction and pumped your fingers even quicker. 

Working for her pleasure while your boss used you for his own. Ada grinding into your mouth with her face drawn tight in bliss. Your hole’s sweet stretch around Wesker's girth. Your breasts grazing against the cool mahogany surface of the desk with every thrust. Strong masculine hands on your ass and the back of your neck, soft feminine ones caressing your dizzy head. 

It all came crashing down at once. 

Ada was the first to go. You felt her seize before something snapped and she cried out as she came. You hardly slowed your mouth, but it became set on drinking every drop of slick that escaped her. The taste alone delivered your own.

Like being struck by lightning, you jolted as you finally felt the tension release. It was violent, like every orgasm you’d been denied arrived now all at once, hitting you so hard you could’ve crashed into the floor if not for the table and Wesker’s hold. 

Ever a man of self-control, he was the last to go. You could feel yourself tighten like a vice around his cock, feel your own juices slicking him up as he bullied into you more, swearing through his teeth as he gripped your hips even tighter and gave you everything he’d been holding back. 

“Fuck, good girl, good fucking girl.”

Just as you were barely able to take any more overstimulation, he delivered one last fierce thrust as deep as he could go, and devolved into shaking grunts and groans, his hips shuddering within you even as he held himself flush and spent his cum all the way inside. 

All three of you remained there for minutes, eyes closed and abuzz. Nothing but heavy, uneven breaths left your still-connected bodies. 

Your forehead rested against the valley at the top of Ada’s thigh, panting hot air into her dripping heat, her fluids dripping down your chin. Her fingers were threaded into your hair as she lay back, head tipped in rest as she came down, tired and aglow. Wesker was still in you to the hilt as his seed spilled out around his softening cock and dripped onto the floor. 

A hoarse sound left him as he slowly pulled out, and the drops of cum on the ground suddenly became a milky puddle. You whined at the loss and the feeling of his cum trickling slowly down your thighs, and leaned into Ada’s hand as it started softly petting your hair. 

With a hum, she moved her underwear back to cover her center and sat up on the edge of the desk. You remained there with your palms flat on the desk as you watched her, admiring her beauty while you waited. The way she brushed back her hair and smoothed out her dress, and then leaned back casually to gaze as you with those warm brown eyes, it was like being seduced all over again.

You heard a belt fasten behind you, and a moment later, Wesker circled his desk to stand in front of where Ada sat. They locked eyes as he took his gloves from his back pocket and slid them on one by one. Your throat tightened as you watched them speak through their eyes alone, uncertain as to what’d happen next as you remained waiting, still disheveled and totally exposed, while they looked like nothing had happened at all. 

“Clean yourself up,” Wesker said. He didn’t so much as look at you, but you swore the corner of his mouth ticked up into a smile. 

You stood and made quick work of it, pulling your pantyhose back up your shaky knees, inhaling sharply as they sealed in his cum against your core. Careful not to step in the milky pool between your heels, you pulled down your skirt and worked at the buttons on your shirt as you walked off to fetch cleaning supplies. They went about their scheduled meeting as you wiped it off the floor, and when all the evidence was wiped away, you left his office quietly. 

Half an hour later, you knew their meeting would be done, and it was time to get on with the work day. On the walk back to his office, something in your chest felt tight as you realized she was already gone.

You approached where he sat at his desk and spoke to the back of his head. 

“Should I schedule a post-mission meeting with Miss Wong, sir?” 

He stilled for a moment. The dead air in the room grew tense as you waited for his response. You bit the inside of your cheek and hoped that he’d agree. 

You both knew it’d be unnecessary. But something in you swelled with excitement when he simply said:

A quick glance up at the jumbotron reveals an awkward angle of your side-profile, and you groan inwardly before straightening and pushing up your cap, shooting the camera what your agent, Laurie, affectionately calls your “fuck boy” grin. 

Immediately, a chorus of cheers swells in the stands. 

“James Bond is in the house! Unlike our boys on the ice, no matter how hard they try, Y/n L/n is the only one here tonight with a license to kill.”

You try not to let your grin slip at the bad joke. A headache is quickly forming at the corners of your vision, and people around you are already swiveling in their chairs to gaze at you, slack-jawed. You mime a fist bump at a kid who climbed fully around in their seat three rows ahead.

Mercifully, the camera cuts away after a few more beats, and you allow yourself to relax back into your seat. You wince, already imagining the conspiracy theories that were no doubt about to hit Reddit in a couple of minutes.

You were in Vancouver to film the next Bond movie; the snowy streets would dupe as Moscow, for about a million less in filming, transport, and crew fees — but the sequence of events was largely supposed to remain secret from the series’ rabid fan base. But this was Hollander’s last game of the season outside of Montreal, and you’d begged to catch it… Jesus. Sam was never going to let you live this down. You shoot a sheepish text to him. 

got caught at that hockey game i went to. maybe they won’t draw any conclusions

Sam texted back immediately. 

I am going to lock you in your trailer until I have finished directing this movie. 

i am the main guy

Irrelevant

yeah actually i think rose could do this without me she’s so badass

By the time the game wraps up, the Metros pulling ahead with two absolutely beautiful goals from Hollander, your headache has manifested in full force. 

You’re able to get out of your seat and halfway out of the stadium with minimal interaction before you run into the press.

It’s a crowd of sports reporters swarming a player, attention entirely focused on the athlete. You flip the hood of your Metros hoodie up, covering your face in shadow, and edge past the crowd.

The athlete mutters something, and you reflexively flick your eyes up — only to lock gazes with Hollander, of all people, whose freckles and sweat-damp hair are thrown into harsh contrast by the lights of the cameras. A grin tugs at the corner of your mouth and you nod at him once. His sentence trails off.

A reporter whirls around and shouts in surprise. You can’t bring yourself to be upset about being caught; most of your focus is snagged on the pretty smattering of freckles across Hollander’s nose.

“Y/n!” She calls, and the crowd instantly whips toward you. You’re guided by insistent hands to Hollander’s side, who’s shifting nervously on his feet. You turn to him and offer your hand, which he clasps in a warm, calloused grip. The flash of bulbs immediately consumes the space.

“Nice to meet you, dude.” You whisper, using your joined hands to tug him forward until you can lean down to speak directly into his ear. “You played really well.”

“Uh, I — thank you.” Hollander stutters back. God, he’s fucking adorable. An idea hits, suddenly.

“Play along?” You murmur, prepared to take the hit if he shook his head. Hollander only quirks an eyebrow and nods, though, so you withdraw and wink at him playfully. 

“Y/n! What are you doing in Vancouver? Does this have anything to do with the next James Bond movie?”

“Tricky. I’ve been sworn to secrecy by my media director, so I can’t speak directly on that, but I’m actually here to see my buddy Shane play.”

A blush has risen high on Hollander’s cheeks. When the microphones pivot back to him, though, his voice is steady. “Uh, yeah. I invited him out to catch a game.”

The hubbub intensifies, and you sling an arm around Hollander’s shoulders. He melts almost unconsciously against your side, then seems to remember where he is, and straightens suddenly. You squeeze his shoulder, then guide him through the crowd of reporters. 

“I think we’re gonna call it here, guys. Have a good night!”

//

The Canadian air is a jarring difference to the stifled heat of the press corridor. You shiver, even decked out in both a hoodie and a leather jacket, and Hollander laughs. 

“I thought you were from Boston.”

You laugh. “And I’m freezing there too.” 

You fall into a comfortable silence navigating through the parking lot; you’d both parked on the far end, it appeared, and your focus is mostly pulled to the icy ground to ensure you don’t faceplant in front of the hockey player glued to your left side.

You cut a glance at him. His nose is scrunched against the cold air, hair swept back. “Thanks for the save. Sorry if I put you in a tough spot.”

“I would’ve done it anyway,” Shane says, then shrugs, like the admission surprises him too. “It’s kind… kind of exhausting sometimes, isn’t it?”

You blow out a breath. “It is, yeah. I’m so grateful for all of my fans, and all of these opportunities… but I think I would like to just go to a hockey game and maybe get piss-drunk and make a fool of myself without it being the front page of People.”

Hollander laughs. “That’s not as much of a thing here as it is in America.”

You grin. “Yeah, probably for the best. I think Boston’s fucked with my perception of what’s socially acceptable.”

There’s a beat of silence. Hollander glances up at you, opens his mouth, then closes it. When he speaks, he does so quickly: “I’m, uh, a pretty big fan. I was really excited when I saw that you were doing a new Bond movie with Rose Landry.”

You grin. “Really? I’m a huge fan of you, dude. I think I drove like forty-five minutes to catch this game. You’re spectacular; my Dad is, like, obsessed with you.”

Hollander blushes. 

“Just your Dad?” He asks. 

“Don’t want to scare you off too early, Hollander.”

“You can call me Shane.”

You slow down in front of your car. “Then call me Y/n. This is me. Thanks again, dude. Hey — here.” You fumble for your phone. “Give me your number? You should come to the premier when it happens.”

He ducks his head to grope around in his hockey bag for his phone. You don’t want the moment to end, so when he leans forward to hand you the device, you blurt: “Actually, if you’re a fan of the movie, you want me to introduce you to Rose? I was about to go and meet her for dinner. My treat.”

You watch, fascinated, as red rises in Shane’s cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I’d love to.”

“Can I give you a lift?”

He nods and leaves to drop his bag off in his car, and you pull out your phone and shoot a text to Rose. 

can i bring shane hollander to dinner? please say yes because i may have already invited him

SHANE HOLLANDER?? the hockey player? how did you manage this

he helped bail me out of a press thing

LMAO you were caught at the game? did sam threaten to kill you? yup he can come to dinner

thank you you’re amazing i adore you

//

It’s sort of surreal to glance over and see Shane sprawled across your passenger seat. He’s a big guy, and his knees are slightly cramped up where they don’t fit entirely under the dash. 

You start the car, listen to the gentle hum of the engine. “Oh, sorry, man. The seat’s way forward; that’s usually Rose’s spot. You can tug it back… it’s kind of hard to find. Is it okay if I reach over?”

Shane smiles, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, sure.”

You reach across his lap, mostly because the lever really is difficult to find, and slightly because you want to see him blush again, and pull it. The seat slides smoothly back. You watch Shane rearrange himself, and nod, satisfied, then latch his seat belt into place. 

The road is surprisingly deserted, but icy. You used to just catch the bus when it got this cold in Boston. And then, of course, you got the lead in Running Man, and then Spiderman, and then you were the next James Bond, and suddenly had Uber money.  

You’re yanked from your focus when Shane asks, voice almost faux casual, “So, are you and Rose dating?”

“Curious, are we?” You respond, even though his interest paints a grin across your face. Fuck boy grin, indeed. 

“Oh, you know me. Can’t get enough of the celebrity dating rumors.” Shane deadpans back, and you laugh. He seems to be relaxing the longer he spends in your presence. You’re suddenly determined to preserve the wry smile on his face, the look in his eye — he’s gorgeous. 

“Oh? You get any of those?”

“Mm. Not really. I don’t usually have time for anything other than hockey.”

“And juice commercials in see-through shirts, huh?”

Shane blushes. “You’ve seen those? That’s — my mom sets those up.”

“And she’s doing a service to the people, sweetheart.” You quip back. The endearment slips out almost unconsciously; you only realize what you’ve said when Shane chokes slightly. 

“Fuck, sorry, I —”

“I don’t mind,” he says. His hands are folded in his lap when you glance quickly over, focus still pulled by the road, and his cheeks are painted a pretty pink. 

You’re pretty sure that you can physically feel your heart skip a beat. Jesus, you need to get a grip. 

“Yeah?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” he responds. 

//

You guide Shane through the rear entrance with a hand resting lightly on his lower back. He presses back into you, warmth radiating through his clothes, steady and grounding. His head darts around every so often to ensure no one’s watching, but the back alley is empty. 

You pull open the door from him with a flourish. “After you.” He grins. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

“Just go in,” You laugh.

When you step past the threshold, light floods your vision. The small building is well lit and heated. A low thrum of chatter fills the air, and you can smell the heady aroma of garlic and tomatoes. You let your hand drop from Shane’s back when he shifts slightly forward.

Rose waves you over eagerly from where she’s tucked into a booth. You pull her into a hug before ushering Shane onto the opposite bench and dropping down next to him. She arches an amused eyebrow at you.

“Shane Hollander, right? God, Y/n never shuts up about you. I think he knows your stats better than his lines.”

You huff in protest. “Christ, woman! The monologue is in Russian!”

You both hesitate slightly, then glance at Shane. Rose sighs. “Please don’t mind that. He’s incapable of not spoiling something.”

Shane just smiles and browses the menu. “Hear what?”

//

The rest of dinner is comfortable. Shane orders a side salad that he picks at enough that you slide half of your salmon fillet onto his plate, urging him to eat. Rose, inevitably, does not like her pasta dish, so you swap meals with her and Shane eats the tomatoes you pick out of the noodles.

You barely notice the time passing, and it’s only Shane’s slightly drooping eyelids that make you realize it’s been almost two hours since you last sat down. You pay for the check quickly, ignoring Shane’s attempts to grab the bill, then wave Rose goodbye and bundle a sleepy Shane in your leather jacket. He pulls the edges around himself and you lead him gently through the rows of booths and back to the car. 

“You okay?” You ask. 

He yawns. “Mhm. Just exhausted.”

He nods off in the passenger seat while you go to pay the valet fee, so you reach over and shake his shoulder gently when you climb back into the car. 

“Shane? Sweetheart? Where should I drop you off?”

He grumbles slightly, shifting, and catches your hand, pressing it to his chest. “Just take me home. I don’t want to go back to the hotel.”

“I think we’ll have to, man. Montreal’s a five hour plane ride away.”

“Mm. Your place is fine, then. Can’t listen to Hayden snore or I’m gonna get arrested.” He grouses, then shifts and firmly shuts his eyes, which you take as your cue to drive.

The security at the temporary filming apartment is good, and it’s late enough that you’re not worried about cameras, so you maneuver a sleepily out-of-it Shane onto your back and hoist your hands under his thighs, carrying him up. You struggle a little bit more than your trainer would probably like with his hockey-bulk. 

For the first time, you let yourself really realize that he’s a man — it seems like a stupid conclusion to draw, but you’ve only let yourself sleep with or date women for the past three years. You’d been too much in the media eye, your career still too young; but looking at Shane’s freckles seem to make all of these reasons seem arbitrary.

God, you didn’t even know if he liked guys.

When you reach your door, you set him down gently, and he sways on his feet while you unlock your apartment door and lead him inside. You crouch down to pull off his shoes, and his hands immediately wrap in your hair, fingers carding through the short length. 

“You can take the master, if you’d like? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Shane mumbles in agreement, and you reach up to gently squeeze his wrist to release his grip before dragging him down the hallway. He collapses on your bed immediately, face-down, and you roll him until you can manage to tuck him under the covers. 

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

The others were no better; JJ getting hard the second you’d touch him, fisting his dick later that night to the thought of being buried deep in your pussy while Kie rode his face. Kie would do the same; fingers sliding into herself as she remembered the way your skin felt against hers, the way you tasted, the way you came so pretty on her face. JJ fucking her so hard she saw stars.

Every time they met your eyes, you’d feel a rush of heat, JJ smirking when he’d remember the way you screamed his name — faltering slightly when you’d look away. Kie was more touchy than usual since then — a hand on your knee, her head resting on your chest, drawing small circles into your thigh. The casual touches had you burning, heart thrumming hard in your chest. 

You wanted to talk about it, wanted to ask if they were thinking about it as much as you. Wanted to know if they were feeling the way you were — wanting nothing more than to kiss them again, fuck them. If only you knew. 

It happened at a party of all things — Kie grabbing your hand and pulling you into a room after doing a couple shots, the alcohol running through her fueling her actions. She had pushed you up against the door, smirking against your lips as you flipped the two of you, kissing down her neck. She pulls out her phone discreetly, texting JJ. 

Third door on the left upstairs. 

You’ve got Kie on the bed now, in nothing but her bra, pussy dragging across yours. You’re so wet, it drips down onto Kie, her gasping at the sensation. She’s grasping for something to hold, fingers fisting in your hair as she rolls her hips up against yours. 

You hear the door click open behind you. Shit, you’d forgotten to lock it. You scramble to get off Kie, looking behind you as you pull your skirt down. 

“Relax princess, s’just me. Was hoping I could join.” JJ locks the door behind him. His eyes are dark, smirk dripping in pure sin. 

You barely acknowledge him, giving a small nod as you pull your skirt off, unclipping Kie’s bra in the process and watching it fall off. You’re both completely bare now, JJ letting out a groan as he lies back on the bed next to Kie, sipping his beer as he takes in the view. You roll your hips against Kie’s once again — her letting out an obscene moan at the sensation. 

You lean down to kiss Kie, lips parting against hers to kiss her deeper. She tastes like beer and strawberry bubblegum. The smell of her shampoo is intoxicating as your fingers curl into her hair. You pull back so you’re sitting on your knees, hooking one of your legs over hers, the angle allowing you to grind down onto her deeper. 

JJ’s just lying there, eyes fixed on the spot where you and Kie meet, the sight and the wet sounds making his dick throb in his pants. He pulls his pants and boxers down to his thighs, gripping his dick in his hand, tugging at it as he watches yours and Kie’s faces contort in pleasure. The way Kie’s pussy is dragging across your clit has you so close to coming. 

“Mm, fuckkk — Kie, feels so fucking good,” you moan, eyes drifting over to JJ, biting your lip at how good he looks with his shorts halfway down his thighs, hand stroking his cock. He has his shirt off now — abs flexing as his hand continues moving up and down, thumb brushing over the tip as his eyes flutter closed. 

“Eyes open.” You’re staring at JJ, eyes hard — focused.

His eyes open slowly, watching you as you gesture him closer, your hips still rolling against Kie’s as her head tips back in pure pleasure, hands grasping at your tits. 

JJ shuffles himself closer, pulling off his shorts and boxers in the process. You cup his chin in your hand, pulling his mouth to you, aggressive. JJ practically whimpers against your lips, parting his to let you kiss him deeper — his mind going completely blank. 

JJ’s still chasing your lips as you pull back suddenly, gripping his chin harder, pulling his view to the spot where you and Kie connect. 

“Now watch, but don’t touch.” 

JJ swallows hard. He can’t help but listen, eyes focused on your pussy dragging against Kie’s — completely mesmerized. His hand is still moving up and down when you catch his wrist, pulling it away from his dick. His eyes meet yours quickly, questioning. You smirk, pushing his chin down again, with a quick swipe of your thumb against his lips, pushing the tip in slightly before pulling it away, watching as JJ’s lips part — wet. 

“I said no touching Jay.” 

Kie’s hands grip your hips desperately, pushing you deeper, chasing her orgasm with a high moan. You feel yourself get close, lips messily meeting Kie’s as you feel her come against you. She’s whimpering desperately into your mouth as you kiss her. Your orgasm hits you slow — washes over you in waves as your tongue moves across Kiara’s. 

You push two fingers into her, smirking as she pulls back from the kiss with a loud gasp. She’s pushing your hand away, overstimulated. You laugh, pulling your fingers out of her and moving over to straddle JJ’s lap, swinging your hip over his. You feel his hard dick brush against you and you bite your lip, holding back a moan. 

JJ’s looking up at you — reverent, determined. You push your fingers against his lips, letting him wrap his lips around them and taste the mix of you and Kie. He sucks them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. You push them in and out, JJ swirling his tongue around them — his eyes never leaving yours. 

Kie’s trembling next to you, eyes fluttering as she comes down from her orgasm. You pull your fingers from JJ’s mouth, before moving your hand down to his cock, pumping it slowly as his head falls pathetically to your shoulder, letting out a soft sound. You gesture to Kie to move behind JJ. She presses herself up against his back, wrapping her arms around him, tracing soft lines down his abs as her lips suck and bite at his neck. 

JJ’s gone — utterly and completely gone. He gets lost in the feel of Kie’s lips kissing up and down his neck, one hand tugging on his strands of hair, the other tracing infuriatingly soft lines down his stomach. Her chest brushes against his back. JJ feels an odd sensation of being so relaxed and so aroused all at once. Your hand moves up and down his cock, tugging at it gently as your lips meet his in a soft kiss. 

JJ didn’t realize how much he needed this — to be completely taken care of, pampered almost. Fuck, JJ feels like he could cry as he reaches his orgasm. Your hand moves faster, using your thumb to trace under the tip. You rest your forehead against his, Kie’s face buried in his neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there. 

“Fuck baby — I’m gonna— please—” JJ lets out between moans. You grip him firmer, pulling him into a heated kiss, it’s messy and sloppy and so fucking good. JJ comes hard, spilling over your hand and Kie’s resting on his stomach. He groans into your mouth, biting down on your lip. You stroke him through it, before pushing him down onto the bed, Kie moving out from behind him. Her lips meet his, his hand cupping her jaw, Kie humming into his mouth as his tongue softly traces hers. 

Your hand is still stroking him, using his cum to move your hand faster. JJ’s gasping, overstimulated out of his mind. You bring your mouth to his dick, kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed at the taste of him, the feel of him — heavy and hot on your tongue. You look up at him and the sight alone could have you coming — he’s flushed, face red, contorted in mind-numbing pleasure, jaw tense, abs flexing. His lips part around a gasp when your tongue presses flat against the underside of him. His hands push weakly at your head, letting out a soft whimper as Kie kisses him again. 

“Fuck, baby please, s’too much, stop—I can’t—” His voice cuts off with a loud moan as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him harder, his cum dripping out around your lips. You keep going, head moving up and down as you feel him get harder in your mouth. Kiara’s kissing down his neck and JJ’s never felt so good. It’s too good — too much. 

“Please—s’too—fuck baby please stop.” JJ’s head tips back, hands gripping your hair. You swat his hands away, sucking harder for just a second before pulling away. JJ lets out a gasp at the loss — only half relieved. 

You turn to Kie, pulling her towards you before going down on her. You eat her out like you’re starved— nose nudging against her clit, tongue moving up and down before pushing it inside her, over and over. JJ’s watching, hands caressing your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you tongue-fuck Kie’s pussy. Kie comes hard and fast against your face, moaning uncontrollably as her body writhes under yours. 

You look over at JJ, lying back with his arm behind his head, completely breathless, eyes filled with need. You straddle his hips again, letting his tip brush against your wet pussy. You slide his tip back and forth, coating it in your wetness. Your moans mix with JJ’s as his tip brushes your clit. 

“Please baby, fuck me, I need you.” JJ’s eyes plead with you, pushing his hips up slightly, letting his tip sink into you before you push his hips down. 

“Mm-mm, you said it was too much, now you need me?” You smirk as his eyes flutter closed at the feel of your slick dripping down around his dick. Fuck, he needs more. 

“Yes, need you baby please, need to be inside you.” He tries pushing up into you as you lift your hips away from him. You need him just as much — pussy practically throbbing, clenching around nothing — but you don’t want to give in just yet. 

“Too much talking. Kie, you wanna come shut him up?” 

JJ’s eyes widen at your words, groaning as Kie laughs, swinging her leg over his head, straddling his face, pushing her pussy down onto his mouth, facing you, meeting your lips in a messy kiss. 

You finally sink down onto JJ’s cock after teasing him until he was twitching, hips desperately thrusting off the bed, whining into Kie’s dripping cunt. Your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch, feeling his tip nudge that spot inside you that has you reeling. You fuck yourself on his dick, circling your hips just right, grinding down hard. 

You don’t know how long it goes on, party probably over and done by now — JJ lying there while you and Kie take turns riding him, using his dick to get yourselves off. And then his mouth. And then his dick again. JJ takes it. Oh he fucking takes it, groaning into your pussy as he feels Kie clench around him, milking him as he comes deep inside her. 

The three of you lie there, a mess of limbs and sweat, completely fucked out. You hear someone banging on the door, telling you to get the fuck out. You can barely care when you’re this blissed out, watching your best friends kiss slow and soft before leaning in to kiss them yourself. 

Yeah, you were definitely doing this again.

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When Dana came back after her break, she told you she filed for divorce from her husband. 

“Benji’s just…too simple,” she said in the ambulance bay a few months ago.

You didn’t ask for more information. You just stood there quietly, pressing the toe of your shoe on the cigarette butt she stomped out a few minutes ago.

“Well, this gives you more time to explore your sapphic side,” you had said softly, holding back a smile.

When you looked up, you could tell Dana was trying not to smile, but failing miserably.

“Did Abbot blab?” she questioned.

You shook your head. 

“I see the way you look at all the MILFs that walk through here,” you said knowingly.

Dana shrugged, a big grin plastered to her face.

“That’s none of your concern, sweetheart,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.

In bed with Jack that night, you brought up Dana’s divorce.

“Oh, shit,” he sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “That guy is the whole reason we got divorced in the first place.”

You shot up from your lying down position.

“Who the fuck is we?” you asked.

You’d only been sleeping with Jack for about six months at that point, and had only made things exclusive about two months prior to this conversation. Given how busy your schedules had always been, there hadn’t been much time for sit-down dinner dates.

Jack sat up and took your hand in his. 

“I’ll be honest: I kind of forget about it sometimes. And the times I do remember, I think I should give her the heads up that I’m about to tell you,” he said, holding your gaze the entire time.

“You and Dana?” you whispered incredulously.

Jack nodded.

“How?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I knew her in college. When I came back after the Army, she was in a bad place, and I was going to med school. Anyway, I saw her at, I don’t know, a grocery store or something. I invited her out for drinks that night, and we got to talking… We both needed support, and getting married gave her a better health insurance option, and she helped me get used to life with the amputation, so it was really more friendly than it was romantic.”

As he explained everything so calmly, you almost forgot to be bewildered by the fact that Jack Abbot and Dana Evans were once married to each other.

“For how long?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Three years,” he replied.

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head. “Did you guys have sex?”

Jack scoffed, actually scoffed, at that. “Come on, of course we did. Although, funnily enough, not that often. Usually, if she was having sex, she was having one-night stands at bars.”

You furrowed your brow and asked, “Did you have sex with other people?”

His gaze softened. “Not until the last six months of us being married. The whole leg thing was so new, and I didn’t really know how to go about it with anyone for a while. Dana was actually really patient that whole time; she helped me re-learn a lot.”

Your heart clenched more than you were prepared for, and the lump in your throat surprised you.

“I didn’t realize…how close the two of you were,” you murmured softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Well, y’know, she met Benji, and that’s when we got the divorce, and she got pregnant pretty quickly after they got married, which happened quicker than I thought it would, too." Jack’s eyes had flickered to your joined hands for just a moment, something unspoken setting up camp on the tip of his tongue. “But before her first kid was born is when I met my wife,” he said softly. He managed to give you a small, tired smile before he added, “So it all worked out.”

//

The idea pops into your head on the Fourth. Robby had been a mess the whole day, only adding to Dana’s already chronic stress. When you looked up from your chart, you saw it: Jack’s hand on her back when he noticed she was holding back tears.

You don’t want to eavesdrop, plus, you already know you’ll be staying late to catch up with charting anyway, so you don’t listen; you let them have their space.

As you mindlessly keep charting, your mind replays Jack touching Dana so softly, so gently, so fucking intimately.

After hearing about their past relationship, you thought you might get a little jealous seeing them interact. Instead, you’re surprisingly curious about what their interactions together mean to one another. You’ve witnessed their friendship for the last three years since you transferred to PTMC for your R3 year, but with the new information you have now, you can’t help but wonder: Is there subtext? Did all those touches and words you perceived as friendly mean something more?

It’s been years since Jack’s wife passed away; he’s been fucking you at least four times a week for the better part of a year, so obviously, he’s healed enough.

Dana’s in the midst of divorce proceedings with her husband, whom you get the feeling she hasn’t loved for a while. She’s mentally checked out there.

Are Jack and Dana going to find their way back to each other? Is the only reason they divorced that Dana’s daughters with Benji cosmically needed to exist in the world?

It sounds like jealousy as you mull it over in your head, but it doesn’t feel that way.

They’re both hot, that’s undeniable. Learning Dana’s had her fair share of sapphic experiences only endeared her to you all the more. 

You’d always had an inkling you were attracted to both sexes and ended up confirming it in college, ironically, at a frat party, when a girl you met that day kissed you. It felt the same as kissing a boy; what’s in someone’s pants doesn’t matter to you.

Maybe you’re kind and want to help Dana feel better. Maybe you’re horny and selfish and would really love having the hottest man and woman you know both naked with you in bed. Maybe you need to see them together to make it clear that Jack’s with you now, and Dana’s going to figure out what she needs.

Whatever the actual reason is for wanting to invite Dana into bed with you and Jack tonight doesn’t matter to you. You know you want this, so you’re going to ask for it.

When Dana walks off, you approach Jack at the nurse’s station.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask softly.

“Something wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on your back just like he did to Dana not moments ago, guiding you toward a less busy area of the E.D.

“What if we invited Dana over tonight?”

You almost expect Jack’s eyes to bug out of his head, but they don’t. He stays calm and speaks softly and clearly.

“Why are you asking this?”

With a shrug, you murmur, “She takes care of everyone. Who takes care of her?”

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans forward to speak directly in your ear. “That’s it?” 

You take a step back and look him right in the eye. 

Maybe it’s not the only reason, but Jack can’t deny he’s curious about where this could go or the fact that he’d love nothing more than to help Dana feel better after such a shitty day.

After a few more moments, Jack nods and mumbles his agreement.

When the three of you finally get off, Jack hands you the keys to his truck, then heads over to where Dana’s walking toward her car.

“Hi,” he says simply, catching her attention.

Dana looks over her shoulder as she unlocks the car with her key fob.

“Hey,” she replies softly, giving her first husband a kind smile.

“You doing okay?”

She shrugs. “I will be. Probably gonna smoke half a pack on my porch and watch the fireworks.”

“How do you feel about some company?” Jack offers, nodding to you sitting in his truck a few yards away.

Dana looks from you to him and smiles.

“I don’t need to be a third wheel, Abbot,” she says, scoffing, now leaning against the back of her car.

“You wouldn’t be a third wheel. We wanna take care of you tonight,” he says, his voice low, taking a few steps closer until the toes of their shoes touch.

Dana holds back a laugh and furrows her brow.

“What, your girl got a MILF fantasy, Abbot?” she scoffs.

Jack just shakes his head. “I… Fuck, I meant to tell you. I told her about you and me. She’s okay with it. She told me about you and Benji, so one thing led to another… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Dana shakes her head now. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re in charge of what you talk to your girlfriend about.”

He wants her to feel welcome in this arrangement tonight, so he says, “She’s bi, too,” softly, only loud enough for Dana to hear.

She softens her gaze. She always caught your flirty comments toward her, and could tell that while they were always in good fun, they meant something different coming from you.

“I know,” she whispers.

Jack seems a little surprised, but he nods nonetheless. “Uh, anyway, she’d like to show her favorite charge nurse a little appreciation. We couldn’t have gotten through today without you. You took care of everyone all day. It’s time you get the favor returned.”

Dana sighs and stays silent for a moment. If Jack didn’t know her so well, he’d be nervous.

“Your place?” she finally asks.

Jack nods.

“Okay,” Dana sighs. “I’m gonna shower at my place. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Should I bring anything? For her?”

“No, we’ve got everything we’ll need. Anything you wanna bring is fine though.”

She nods, then sighs. “This is okay with you?”

When Dana and Jack got married, it was at the courthouse. They both wore t-shirts, and neither of them currently speaks to the former mutual friends they had agreed to be witnesses to their wedding anymore. Jack and Dana both knew that the marriage was more practical than anything else. Still, when Dana told Jack about Benji, that the inevitable day had come, he took it harder than either of them anticipated.

Jack considers her question for a moment, then he nods.

“I have her now,” he says softly, looking briefly to the side where he can see you sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone. Then he looks back at Dana. “And tonight I got you, too.”

He means it differently, and Dana knows that, but that doesn’t mean it warms her heart any less.

She takes a step forward, her feet slotted in between and on the side of his, their fronts pressed together. Her hands go to his arms, and she looks at him, really looks.

Here’s the guy who once balanced medical school with learning how to walk through life with one less leg, now an attending who’s never been more sure of himself. 

He’s grown up, and she has too. 

But never apart.

Jack leans down and kisses her. Then one hand goes to her back and the other to her cheek, her hands go to his jaw and neck, and suddenly they’re in their late 20s again, kissing because a white-haired judge told Jack to kiss his bride.

Dana pulls back and leans her forehead against Jack’s. He kisses her cheek, then starts walking toward his truck.

He looks over his shoulder and watches Dana’s car drive off, then he opens the driver’s door to his truck, gets in, and immediately leans over the console, taking your jaw in his hands and smashing his lips against yours.

Your phone clatters to the floor, knocking against the plastic of the passenger door, but you don’t care. Jack’s lips on yours, which taste like cherry Chapstick, feel too good.

“Mm. You kissed her,” you moan against his lips, your fingers gently pulling at his hair.

Jack pulls back, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

He doesn’t say anything. He just buckles your seatbelt, then his own, and pulls out of the parking lot.

A mile away from his house, he says, “She’ll text me when she’s on her way.”

He glances at you, and you nod. The two of you ride in silence the rest of the way.

When he parks in the driveway, he gets out first while you gather your things. He opens the door for you, then again at the front door.

He kisses your temple and offers his shower to you, which you graciously accept.

Right before you’re done, you see his form moving in the bathroom through the fogged-up glass shower door. He sits on the toilet seat with your towel folded on his lap.

When you shut off the water and slide the door open, Jack holds the towel out, rising to his feet and wrapping you up in the towel.

He’s being more affectionate than he usually is. Jack’s a little worried that you feel insecure about his first marriage, but he also suspects tonight is the only way to help alleviate that feeling.

With another kiss to your temple, he squeezes your shoulders, then heads to the bedroom where he strips to just his boxers, the prosthesis going with his clothes.

You come out of the bathroom, the bathrobe he bought last month for you to have here draped over your shoulders, the belt loosely tied.

You sit on the edge of the bed next to Jack and lean your head against his shoulder, watching as he massages his residual limb.

“Hurt?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head. “Just a long day.”

His phone vibrates against the bed.

“She’s fifteen minutes out,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

There are a few moments of silence before he asks, “Is it in poor taste to say I’m excited to see you two together?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head.

“Your first wife and current girlfriend fucking… Nah, you’re entitled to be excited, Jack,” you say, smiling as you turn your gaze toward his.

When you lean forward and kiss him, Jack groans into your mouth, his hands going to your breasts and the back of your head.

Eventually, Jack’s on his back, and you’re humping him through his boxers, and you stay like that until his phone buzzes again, a text from Dana saying she’s a block away coming through.

You peck Jack’s lips one more time, then leave the bedroom, retying the robe as you head to the front door. When you open it, you find Dana walking up the driveway, hair half-wet, wearing low-rise sweatpants and a thin white tank top, clearly sans bra.

You’d seen Dana outside of her scrubs before. She’d invited you on outings before. Sometimes with other women from work, sometimes just the two of you.

But you’ve never seen her without a bra on, and you’re learning very quickly that you’d like to see this version of her more often.

“Jack’s already taken off his prosthetic,” you say, trying to explain why you’re opening his door. “He’s in the bedroom, but I can get you something to drink if you want.”

Dana’s gaze doesn’t waver as she walks up to the porch. She’s not nervous; she’s calm and sure of herself.

She and Jack tried to have a threesome two years into their marriage, but something wasn’t right, and Jack ended up politely offering to call the woman a cab.

That was a stranger in a bar, and this is you, someone Jack loves, someone Dana cares about. If nothing else, she’s grateful for your friendship.

“Some water would be nice for all three of us,” she says as you open the door for her.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you agree, shutting the door behind you.

Dana takes her shoes off, leaving them by the front door, then follows you to the kitchen.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks as you hold a glass under the refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Of course.”

“When’s the last time you were with a woman?”

You hand the now full glass to Dana, who’s leaning against the counter.

“A year ago. One night stand. She was probably about ten years older. I don’t normally top,” you reply, filling a second glass with water.

Dana just nods, surprised, but pleasantly so with your blunt answer.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t normally bottom.”

You finish filling up the third glass of water and set both on the counter, then step towards Dana, leaning your hands on the counter, practically caging her in.

Dana’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t waver. She looks down at your cleavage, the robe becoming looser around your body with all your movement. Then she looks at your eyes, which don’t meet hers because they’re stuck on her lips.

You lean forward, and she meets you halfway, her lips pressing against yours and her hands going to your waist.

She smiles against your lips when you take her bottom lip between your teeth, then pulls back, ducking under your arm. She takes her glass of water and makes her way to Jack’s bedroom.

You stand there for a moment, lips still tingling. With a shaky breath, you take the other two glasses and pad into the bedroom, finding Dana slipping out of her sweatpants, revealing blue cotton panties.

Jack is still on the bed in just his boxers, watching his first wife. When he hears your footsteps, his gaze falls on you, and his smile is soft, kind, but wanting.

You set both glasses on his nightstand, then crawl up the bed, sitting at the bottom, your eyes on Dana, who’s folding up her pants, leaving them on Jack’s dresser.

She stalks toward the bed, clad in just the white tank top and blue panties, then crawls toward you and Jack, putting a hand on the exposed skin of your knee.

“Heard you wanted to take care of your favorite charge nurse,” she murmurs softly, her other hand going to your hair, gently stroking before taking hold of the side of your face.

“That’s right.”

The hand on your knee travels up your thigh, her fingers grazing your hip, confirming that you’re bare beneath the robe.

“How do you plan on doing that?” she asks, her voice low and raspy.

Jack smiles as he reclines against the pillows. God, her voice. It would make Jack weak in the knees in the early days of their marriage. Watching her use it on you is a fucking treat.

You look down at her hand, now disappeared under your robe, then at her eyes.

“However you tell me to,” you answer confidently.

When you were a resident, Jack noticed you didn’t quite like having to take orders from Robby, other attendings, or even him. Would you follow them? Yes, but he could always tell you liked it just enough less than the other residents for him to take notice.

But in the bedroom, you’re confident in your submission.

“Good girl,” Dana whispers.

Jack’s cock twitches in his boxers, and he lets out a rough sigh, which catches Dana’s attention.

She’s different from you in that she doesn’t take orders at work or in the bedroom.

“You’re gonna watch at first,” she tells Jack.

He almost wants to protest, but you and he really want to give Dana exactly what she wants and needs tonight, so instead he nods.

She turns back to you and whispers, “I wanna see you.”

When you nod, she unties the belt of your robe, then pushes it off your shoulders, baring your nude form to her eyes for the first time.

Dana doesn’t say anything at first as she takes in your appearance, but then she looks at Jack and says, “You’re one lucky bastard, Abbot.”

He just smiles, then replies with a simple, “Yeah, I know.”

Dana looks back at you. 

“I want you to lie down next to Jack and let me eat this pretty pussy,” she says, her fingertips dancing in your pubic hair. “Yes, ma’am?”

You nod and softly murmur, “Yes, ma’am.”

Slowly, you crawl up the bed and lie down next to Jack. You take notice of the tent growing in his boxers, but then your eyes are on Dana again, who’s settling on her stomach, looking at your pussy with hungry eyes.

She starts with a kiss against your already wet slit. Your breath hitches, and she goes for another kiss, this time to your clit.

You moan softly, your brow furrowing as you watch her, and then she starts really licking your pussy. 

Unsure if you’re allowed to touch her, given the strict rule she gave Jack of only watching, you bury your hands into the sheets and arch your back off the bed, breathy whines leaving your mouth.

Beside you, Jack’s body is stiff, his lips pursed as he fights not to touch you or Dana.

It’s hotter than he thought it’d be, watching his first wife eat out his girlfriend. Dana’s hands are gripping your thighs, holding you steady as she basically makes out with your cunt. He hopes she’ll let him kiss her when she’s done, so he can taste you on her tongue.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…”

Your whine paired with your clit pulsating against Dana’s tongue only causes her to work faster, determined to bring you over the edge.

With a whine and a sharp arch of your back, you climax, your labia pulsating against Dana’s tongue while she laps up your cum.

Beside Jack, you’re struggling to regain your composure, and that’s when he makes his move.

“Dana.” Her name is a strangled whisper on his lips.

She looks up, then leans over your body and crashes her lips into his. Her hands go to his shoulder and his hair. 

Your cum mixed with the nicotine gum taste on Dana’s breath is some sort of heaven for Jack. He places a palm over her back and lets his free hand go to her breast, gently squeezing it through the shirt, pulling a moan from her throat.

She pulls away and puts her attention on you. “You got any rules for him?”

You furrow your brow, breath still coming fast, and sit up.

“Is he allowed inside of me?” Dana clarifies.

She may have been married to him once, but he’s yours now. She doesn’t want to take him from you; she likes you too much to do that to you.

You nod your head. “Everything’s on the table. You get to take the lead.”

She considers your words for a moment, then looks at Jack.

“What do you want from us?” he asks her softly, placing both hands on her hips.

“I want you to fuck her while she eats me out,” Dana says, her voice low and gravely. “Then, once she comes, I want you to fuck me while she watches. And neither of you comes until I say so.”

Jack keeps his gaze fixed on Dana’s the entire time she speaks, never wavering, not even when you let out a whine in response to her words. He just nods, then leans forward and kisses her, her tongue wet and soft against his.

He places his hands on Dana’s body and manages to gently push her off of him so she can lie back against the pillows.

Dana breaks the kiss with a sigh and pulls her panties down her legs, followed by her tank top, now fully naked.

You lie on your side, horizontally in front of Dana, so that Jack can comfortably fuck you. While he sticks a finger inside of you, both to get you ready for him and gather your slick to lubricate his cock, you moan against Dana’s inner thighs while you pepper them with gentle kisses, building the anticipation before you bring your tongue to her slit.

Just as Jack notches his tip with your entrance, he whispers in your ear, “Go and show Dana how good that fucking mouth works.”

He pushes inside of you, and you dive into Dana’s cunt, moaning softly against her, causing her whole body to tingle.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” she moans softly, reaching down to keep a hand at the back of your head, just to hold, not to push.

“She doing a good job over there?” Jack asks Dana, his voice soft and husky as he restrains himself from just ramming into you.

Dana lets out a breathy scoff and nods her head. “Yeah, I’d say she’s making you proud with how good she’s using this fucking tongue of hers.”

Jack smiles and brings a hand up to your breast to squeeze the flesh and tweak your nipple.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers in your ear, his lips moving against your skin. “You’re doing such a good job, honey.”

You keen at both of their praising words and apply more pressure with your tongue against Dana while arching your chest into Jack’s hand.

Just as you arch into Jack’s hand, he takes his hand away from your breast, caressing the length of your body, from your ribs to your waist to your hip where he squeezes again, pulling moans from your throat that reverberate throughout Dana’s body as you continue lapping at her cunt, which has her burying her hand deeper in your hair, tugging on the root, causing more moans.

It’s like a continuous domino effect, and it, paired with Jack and Dana’s touch, is on their way to overstimulating you.

“Wanna come,” you moan against Dana’s weeping folds before sucking her clit.

“Not yet,” she says breathily, tugging on your hair once again.

Jack grunts softly in your ear, bringing two fingers down to your clit even though Dana hasn’t given you permission to come yet.

You let out a whine and squirm against his hips. “Jack, please…”

“Just making my girl feel good,” he whispers before kissing your cheek.

With another pathetic whine, you resume your ministrations on Dana, who quickly squeezes her thighs around your head, her clit pulsating against your tongue as you slip a finger inside of her.

“Fuck,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “Oh, Jack, you lucky son of a bitch.”

Dana doesn’t warn you, but the way her cunt clenches around your finger as you move it in and out of her is warning enough. She comes with a deep sigh, clamping down on your finger and slowly cumming on your mouth.

You don’t stop until she pushes you away, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she fights to regain her composure.

“Fuck… Okay, Jack, you got two minutes to make this girl come, and then I’m stealing you from her,” Dana says breathlessly.

Jack pulls you closer, and you turn your head back enough so he can angle his lips toward yours. He tastes Dana on your tongue, and he thinks he might come before Dana lets him. He rubs your clit in circles and picks up the pace of his thrusts, soaking in how your body feels against and around his, swallowing each whine, moan, and gasp you let out of your mouth.

“Come on, baby, show Dana how pretty you look when you come,” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

With a prolonged moan from you in response to his words, your cunt flutters around Jack’s cock, your eyes squeezing shut as pleasure washes over your body. In the throes of your orgasm, Dana brings her hand to your cheek, brushing her thumb back and forth across your skin as Jack fucks you through it, his lips moving against your ear again, whispering how good a girl you are, how tight your cunt is around him, how pretty you look with his cock inside of you.

Once it’s too much, you cover his hand with your own and pull it away from your clit, bringing his knuckles to your lips.

“So pretty,” Dana murmurs, her hand reaching out to stroke your hip.

You shut your eyes for a moment, relishing the gentle touches of both Jack and Dana, then squirm away from Jack, both of you hissing softly as he slips out of you.

“Use him,” you whisper in Dana’s ear before kissing her, wet and sloppy.

She moans into your mouth and tangles her fingers in your hair before crawling over your body towards Jack, who immediately positions her the same way he had you.

“You ready?” he whispers in Dana’s ear, kissing the back of her neck.

“Just fuck me,” she replies, and Jack quickly slides inside, desperate to get his dick wet again.

You lie against the pillows and watch the divorced couple fuck like no time has passed.

It’s interesting to watch. It’s probably worlds different from when they were married, but then what do you know? You were in elementary school while they had a joint bank account and Dana was helping Jack learn how to navigate intimacy with one less limb. They’ll always have that, and as long as you’re with Jack, you’ll try to keep from feeling jealous about it.

You watch Jack’s fingers reach down to rub Dana’s clit and listen to the soft whines he pulls from her lips. She reaches behind and grabs his hip, giving herself some leverage to meet his thrusts.

“You’re still so fucking tight,” Jack whispers in Dana’s ear, putting a smirk on her face.

“You’re still too cocky for your own good,” she shoots back.

Jack pinches her hip in response. 

“Is it cocky if it always ends with orgasms?”

No one responds, and Jack moves his hand up to cup Dana’s breast, his fingers kneading at her flesh, sometimes grazing his fingernail against her nipple while his other hand keeps a steady pace on her clit.

Dana whines softly in response and reaches for you. You lie down in front of her, and she pulls you towards her, pulling you in for another kiss while Jack feels her up.

“So pretty,” you pant against the older woman’s lips. “Look so pretty with my boyfriend inside of you.”

Both Dana and Jack let out soft moans in response to your words, which only encourages you to go further.

“Yeah, you like having your ex-husband inside of you? Hm? Does he fuck as good as he used to? Or did he get better with age?”

Dana scoffs and smiles at you. “Mouthy thing, aren’t you?”

“Tell me,” you urge, smiling. “Is he better now?”

Dana leans forward to press another peck to your lips, then leans back again, licking her lips.

“Sweetheart, I think it’s safe to say he’s fermented to perfection,” she says, and Jack can hear the smile in Dana’s voice as she speaks, and it does fucking wonders for his ego, pushing him to thrust a little harder into Dana.

“Oh, shit! Yeah, just like that, Jack,” Dana moans, her hands reaching for your head again, moaning into your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

It’s all the more motivation for Jack to just keep going. 

“Can I, can I please come with you?” he asks, out of breath. “Please, Dana.”

Dana pulls back and smiles at you again, her breath coming quicker as you bring your finger to her clit, bumping into Jack’s fingers.

“Yeah, you come for me like a good boy, Jackie,” she says before clamping down on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth, pulling his long-awaited orgasm from him, both their cum mixing together.

As they regain their composure, Jack gently pulls out of Dana and lies on his back.

You stand from the bed and head into the bathroom to grab a few wet washcloths that you bring back to the bed. You kneel on the bed and gently run a washcloth over Dana’s thighs, then gently over her swollen, fucked-out pussy.

Then you turn towards Jack, but he takes the rag from your hand and sits up, cleaning you before letting you get to him.

“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing your sternum.

He takes the other washcloth and cleans himself, then tosses it all to the side. He looks over at Dana, who’s sliding off the bed, searching for her panties with her glass of water in her hand.

“Hey,” you whisper, your hand in Jack’s hair.

Dana looks up, a hand on her hip.

“Stay?” you ask, giving her your best puppy dog eyes.

She hesitates, so Jack faces her and says, “The bed’s big enough.”

You reach a hand out, and she takes it, crawling into bed and wrapping her arms around you.

Jack slots in behind you, putting a hand on your hip, his fingertips brushing with Dana’s.

You’re still not sure of the exact reason why you wanted to invite Dana into your and Jack’s intimate lives for the night, but you sure are glad you did. She’s an incredible woman, and you only hope you took some of the stress off her mind, at least for tonight.

Soon, Dana’s breath deepens, and you can tell she’s asleep.

Jack kisses the back of your neck and whispers words you didn’t think you’d ever hear him say.

“I love you.”

He isn’t sure why you invited Dana, either, outside of taking care of her needs for the night, but he knows one thing for certain: he still loves her. How could he not? She helped him through one of the hardest times in his life. She made him feel like a person again.

He owes a lot to her, but he also knows this: she’s not you.

Jack and Dana had their time, and he’ll always be grateful for it, but at this stage in his life, he needs you. Things are easy with you in a way they weren’t with his first wife or his second wife. He’s a lucky man to get to love three women in his life, and he doesn’t want to lose again.

You slowly turn on your back so you can look at him. It’s dark, but there’s enough moonlight seeping in through the curtains to tell you that he’s serious. He isn’t telling you he loves you in hopes of easing any insecurity you may have about his previous marriage with Dana; he’s telling you he loves you because it’s true.

You reach a hand up to bury it in his hair and lean your forehead against his chest. You kiss the left side of his chest, then look up again and whisper your reply. 

“I love you, too.”

tags: @person-005 @alliewrights @michasia24 @emoprincess9402 @maystyles @its--fandom--darling p.s. if you would like to be added to Jack Abbot taglist, or my all works taglist, or any works pertaining to The Pitt, just leave a comment asking! <3

end author's note: here is the timeline for the events in this story: Jack and Dana go to the same college and meet, Jack enlists in the Army as a medic, does his five years, comes back with the amputation, as he's recovering and rehabbing, he studies for the MCAT, gets accepted to med school, runs into Dana, drinks, hang around for a few months, then they decide to get married, three years married, Dana meets Benji, soon after Jack and Dana divorce, Dana and Benji get married and get pregnant, Jack graduates med school (Dana definitely went to the ceremony), Jack meets canon wife, residency at PTMC while Dana is a nurse, charge nurse and attending, years and years go by, enter reader coming to PTMC her third year of residency, stays on as she becomes attending, she and Jack start sleeping together her second year as an attending, months and months, then exclusivity, then the threesome guys I looked on The Pitt Wiki and it lowkey only helped a little and I don't watch interviews so if you read this and were disgusted by my timeline I am sorry