#think they’re out at a bar or with friends but it’s so late now and all my brain can think is something terrible has happened and I’m just

[buckevantommy]

Bucktommy Fixit where they reconnect next year and become friends - albeit ones who mostly converse via text and only really see each other on calls or running into each other at a bar etc. They don’t actually make plans to hang out, they just keep in touch. But keeping in touch turns into daily text conversations about anything and everything which turns into post-shift phonecalls at least once a week.

Meanwhile: Buck is casually dating, maybe more than one person, because he’s not looking to settle down right now he’s just looking to have some fun and meet some interesting people. But he starts dating one guy a little more seriously, to the point he stops dating others.

Also: Tommy’s been seeing a therapist. And doing art therapy. And trying his damndest not to turn into a sad lonely old man. It was a new year’s resolution kind of thing. He’d dated casually but soon realised it was better to just meet his base needs and focus on platonic relationships - like new friends and old friends, acquaintances and coworkers, and what little family he still talks to. 

Someone asks how Buck’s new boyfriend feels about Buck texting his ex-boyfriend so much (and Buck has mixed feelings about all of that: having an ex-boyfriend and a second boyfriend makes him giddy and conflicted all at once). He starts to wonder if he shouldn’t be texting Tommy so much now that he’s dating someone properly. But he doesn’t get the same want to text his boyfriend about his work day or random things in his life, and when they do text it’s brief and he doesn’t respond to Buck’s rambling trains of thought the same way Tommy does. He thinks it’s fine. Not everyone is a texter. And Tommy is his friend and people text their friends all the time while dating or being married.

But it’s different when it’s an ex. And Buck hasn’t told his current boyfriend that the friend he’s always texting with is an ex. Not that current boyfriend is aware of how much they’re texting or how often they talk on the phone. And current boyfriend knows Buck’s ex is called Tommy. And Buck always just says ‘a friend’ whenever current boyfriend asks who pinged him. Never ‘just’ a friend; Tommy will never be that for Buck, despite everything.

Things come to a head late one night after/during a rough shift or after a fight with Buck’s current boyfriend. Buck calls Tommy and vents because Tommy always lets him vent and always listens to what he has to say, and then he broaches what they haven’t discussed since reconnecting months ago: does Tommy ever think about where they’d be right now if they were still together?Buck has taken responsibility for his part in moving too fast, but he wants to know more about Tommy’s headspace now compared to when things ended between them. It’s curiousity in that ‘what if’ sense, but he also wants to know how Tommy is really doing, if he’s opening himself up to people, letting himself be happy, be loved.

There’d been a closure type of conversation not long after they reconnected, with Tommy apologizing and being sincerely happy for Buck and mentioning how he’s been working on himself a lot in the time since. And buck was happy for him but Tommy held back on details about what exactly he was doing and what that meant for him and his future relationships. He wanted Tommy to want to tell him, so he didn’t pry, but he liked the idea of being a friend Tommy could be open and honest with.

“Evan..”

Tommy knows he hates when he calls him ‘Buck’, but he never actually switched back to ‘Evan’, instead just kind of omitted saying his name altogether. Buck wonders what he’s listed as on Tommy’s phone. On Buck’s phone Tommy is ‘TK’, and he’s told more than one white lie to more than one nosey person that it was a firefighter friend from Texas - gay but happily married. He does keep in touch with T.K., but there’s periods between his letters on Buck’s contact list.

Tommy already said he’s sorry. He’s already told Buck it wasn’t his fault, that he would’ve ended things eventually even if they took their time with every step and that’s on him, it’s his issues and his life, not Buck’s.

“I can’t think about that.”

“I think about it all the time.”

Buck has a boyfriend and he’s happy, but he thinks about his ex-boyfriend slash current friend and what they could’ve looked like today if Buck had found a way to make Tommy believe he wanted all of him. He tells himself it’s to know himself better, to be better prepared and try harder next time. But he’s kidding himself if he says it’s not because he still has feelings for Tommy.

“You have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

And.. he is. He is happy with current boyfriend. But he was happy with Tommy. And he can’t help wondering if he was happier with Tommy than he is right now, or if Tommy was right and his excitement and wonder about being in a queer relationship got muddled up with how he felt about Tommy. He still doesn’t know. He wishes he knew. 

“I was happy with you.” Tommy sighs over the line but Buck doens’t let him cut things off. “I know you think it was puppy love, and that I didn’t know you well enough, but.” But. He knows Tommy better now. Tommy has opened up to him as a friend, sharing personal details about himself and his past - not everything Buck wants to know and he never could bring himself to ask, but he’s learned things about Tommy in these past few months that he wishes he’d known when they were dating. And he wants to know more. He wants to know it all. 

“But?”

“Sometimes, it works backwards.” Sometimes you get to know someone and fall for them, and then you learn dark things about their past or get a better look at their emotional baggage or they go through a rough time. And some people break up because it’s too much or not what they wanted. But some people simply care more, and become stronger together for it. Buck wanted the chance to know Tommy better, to be there with him through the bad times. He never got to find out how things would’ve gone but he thinks he knows his own heart well enough to know he wouldn’t have abandoned or rejected or hated or been fed up with Tommy because he has a past or he’s imperfect or life threw some crap at him.

Buck knows people are more than they seem. He wants to see them for everything they are, to be trusted with that, the same way he wants to be seen in return and wanted anyway.

“What does?”

“Love.”

Sometimes, you love someone more after you learn the bad stuff - or what they think is bad - not less.

Buck breathes in as Tommy remains quiet.

“I didn’t have to know all of you to love you, Tommy. And whatever you think about how I would’ve reacted to the things you didn’t share with me, you’re wrong. I know I would’ve loved you anyway. And not out of pity, or some misguided infatuation, but because knowing you better means getting to love more of you, it means loving you better.”

Tommy doesn’t respond, and when there’s a bleep from Buck’s phone he thinks Tommy hung up - except he didn’t: it’s a facetime request. They’ve done this a few times before but only for something on a call or because it was easier for Buck to show Tommy what he was talking about in realtime rather than try to send through photos and videos.

Tommy fills his screen looking soft around the edges, hair and clothes and face bed-rumpled. His face is drawn into something that threatens to break Buck’s heart again; it beats in aching memory and yearns in equal measure. You’re good, he wants to say, you don’t deserve what you put on yourself.

“Tommy..”

[florianniss]

Here's some smut for your holiday enjoyment.

Dungeons and Drag Queens -

ratedE, identity porn, complete

It is Sunday. The food has been cleared, patrons long since gone. The tight-knit group of performers lounge around the table. Hair is let down, high-heeled shoes discarded. It’s a joyous atmosphere.

Robin is a hit. She laughs louder and harder than Steve has ever seen before, leaning against a pretty redhead who’s the stuck-up cheerleader type. A couple of hours spent watching a private show the Queens needed to test on an audience, however, has loosened her up. Her lipstick is smeared across her smiling face.

Steve stands by the bar near the stairs, watching his friend and her date bond with new friends. There’s something hopeful in the way they can be themselves here. Even the burly bouncers are enjoying the camaraderie.

“Steve,” Helen says, crooking a finger his way. “Don’t be afraid to wrinkle that fantastic suit. Come back to us.”

Steve smiles, feeling stiff, nervous. “I’m just fine right here.”

The whole table makes kissing sounds, mocking the way he’s so head over heels in love. It’s all in good fun; Steve knows they’re as happy for him as he is for himself. He’s just got to get past this waiting.

Steve glances at his watch and thinks about red scales on a mermaid dress, dangerous scarlet nails and an actual flaming throne for his Dragon Queen. It almost smoked them all out, but the effect was stunning and totally worth it. He’s kind of proud they’re taking his DnD campaign and turning it into a drag show.

He checks his watch again and does a quick calculation. They’ll have to take the highway to make it into the city in time. They’ve had these reservations for a while now, and the closer the date, the more and more anxious Steve becomes. He wants everything to be perfect.

The creak on the wooden stairs above him catches his undivided attention. One hand flies to the knot at his throat to straighten it, the other runs along the length to smooth it out. Stella tiptoes over and plants a wet one on the apple of his cheek, laughs, and then hands him a clean handkerchief.

“Oops! Wanna rub that off, Honey. Wouldn’t want anyone to get jealous.” And then, "Good luck!"

Steve hardy-hars at her and presses the cloth to his cheek, unworried about any jealousy, but concerned about lipstick on his white collar. He and Robin from JCPenneys put together a stellar look; it’s sex and confidence that he’s going for. Can’t afford to miss his mark.

Someone shorter than him appears on the final step and lifts the handkerchief out of his hand. Big brown eyes, dark, slicked-back hair. She’s dressed in a cornflower blue sundress that shows off her amazing legs and bare (bare!) feet, carrying a clutch purse in one bejeweled hand, a glittering gauzy scarf at her throat.

“Oh my god,” he says on a terrified inhale. 

She smiles shyly and touches the cloth to his cheek. Bare arms reveal clear, unmarked skin. She’s covered over her ink.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Steve says, weak in the knees at how lovely she is.

She laughs. Steve melts. “I wanted us to match.”

Catcalls erupt from the table, whistles and whoops and cheers. His date slots an arm through his elbow. Steve recovers and escorts her away.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Robin shouts. 

“That’s great advice! You should follow it!” Steve shouts back. The woman on his arm chuckles to herself.

The bouncer Steve head-butted once upon a time holds out a pair of sparkling strappy sandals. She takes them, holding tightly to Steve’s arm as she slides into them one at a time. He watches the graceful curve of her bare back as she bends over and has to close his eyes to stay focused.

Wayne’s bike awaits at the curb. It’s her virgin ride, the first other than the test drive up and down the driveway. The late afternoon is breezy, cooling fast. Steve holds out his leather jacket to keep her skin safe. He wouldn’t dream of taking her for a ride without it.

She helps Steve into his helmet, and he with hers. He thrills a little as she sinks into the seat behind him, as long, stockinged legs grip tightly around his own.

Steve risks temptation and runs an ungloved hand along the outside of her knee. It’s just as silky as he imagined. 

God, he���s the luckiest asshole alive.

She doesn’t distract him, other than the occasional squeeze of his elbow, her chin on the backside of his shoulder. Steve is glad because he doesn’t know what he’d do if she were to fondle the tightness of his crotch.

Steve straps the helmets and jacket to the bike while she watches, stunning smile on an amused face.

“I think we should work you into the show, somehow,” she teases. “Knight in Shining Armor that you are.”

Steve takes her hand and raises it to his lips; he’s liking this role he’s playing much more than he thought he would.

“Anything you desire, M’Lady.”

They are greeted with polite smiles, and Steve’s nervousness subsides again. Appreciative eyes linger on their joined hands, welcoming them, seating them, taking their orders without unsavory commentary.

“I think this might work,” she whispers conspiratorially, as if they’ve robbed a bank and gotten away with it. Her wine glass has a crescent-shaped lipstick smudge on it. One thumb runs seductively along the thin edge.

“Thought it would.” Steve absolutely did not. He is still terrified for his date; her heart must be racing just like his.

“It’s because of your James Bond vibe,” she continues, drinking him in once again. “People can’t take their eyes off you.”

Steve laughs quietly. He hasn’t noticed. He’s too busy watching her.

“Happy to be a distraction,” he says. She raises her fork to her mouth and Steve goes a little dizzy as her tongue pokes out.

God, he wants to be that fork.

They skip dessert and return to the bike, but something’s missing, and he says so.

“I want to take you dancing.”

She smiles, but it’s sad. “You think that’s a good idea?”

Her hesitation is understandable, and Steve doesn’t want to push things too far. It’s their first time out together, and he’s hoping for many, many more. Something primal inside of him wants to show her off, wants to flaunt her to the world, wants to shout that she’s his and nobody else can have her.

An idea presents itself, and Steve swivels his head, looking up and down the street. It’s fairly quiet, just the passing cars, and even that is few and far between. It’s Sunday, after all.

He turns the key in the bike and switches the radio on, tuning it until he finds something that will work. When he straightens and faces the love of his life, there’s a strange emotion on her face.

Steve slips a hand around her waist and pulls her in. “Would you like to dance?”

She melts into him, cheek on his shoulder, hair pushed up right into his nose.

He laughs. “That’s a yes.” 

They sway on the street. Steve closes his eyes and pretends they’re at some swanky, sweaty club. Pretends that they’re accepted the way they are, eyes passing over them like they’re just another couple in love.

It tweaks something inside his chest.

They decide to walk the three blocks to the hotel. Steve repositions the bike so it’s further off the street and up on its stand. He unfastens the packed bag. She holds a helmet under each arm, eyes shining with anticipation with what they’re about to do.

The reception inside the lobby is the same as the restaurant, pleasant smiles that flick over them nonchalantly. Steve recognizes that other people around them are staring, but they’re focused on him and not his date. Maybe he overdid it.

He doesn’t care. They’re opening the door to their room, and it’s cost him more money than he’s ever spent before. But as she closes and locks the door, draws the safety chain and turns to face him, Steve knows he will never deny her anything she wants.

He sets the bag on the floor and lifts a hand to take her scarf. She lifts her chin and looks away, and oh, the slide of pale blue fabric over her Adam’s apple makes him want to bite it. But he’s a gentleman, and he pushes that urge way down deep. Patient, he can be patient.

His date, however, cannot. She pushes him back against the wall with the palm of one hand and skewers him still with a look. The sound that comes from his throat is tortured, weak, and it’s not the way he wants to begin.

So he covers her fingers with his own and gently tugs them away. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair off her face and softly says her name.

“Nat.”

She smiles and the aggression subsides. “Biker Boy.”

Read on AO3

[ohbueckers]

YOUR SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. she a good girl, for me she a slut.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, march madness p has been heavy on my mind, like the EDITS and when this song was trending mmm so mayyybe you can expect some stuff. this is also her song idc idc. warnings, cheating, sexual content 〔 absolute filth i’m sorry. 〕

your heart stutters. you’re not ready for this. not with her eyes on you like they’ve always been—hungry and knowing. but there really is no avoiding it now. you’ve put it off for too long.

he’s already pushing himself off the bar, motioning for you to follow. you catch sight of paige from the corner of your eye—leaning against the far wall, her broad, all worked-out shoulders relaxed, fingers tapping against the neck of a half-empty beer bottle. she’s surrounded by her teammates, some friends, but it’s like none of them exist in her orbit.

she sees him before she sees you walking toward her, but once your boyfriend’s hand finds its place on the small of your back, her eyes lock on yours, and you could’ve sworn they flared darker. she looks like she’s been waiting all night, lips curling into that slow, lazy smirk—the one that knows exactly what you’re trying so hard to forget.

shit. you swallow thickly, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. you’re steps away now, too late to back out.

“yo, bueckers!” your boyfriend calls out as you approach, his hand squeezing your hip like a casual claim. he’s smiling like there’s nothing in the world wrong, like this is just a chance meeting with one of uconn’s basketball stars, particularly onehis girlfriend has been spending so much time with. he doesn’t know. he doesn’t have a clue.

he’s pure. too pure, and too fucking oblivious.

“what’s up?” her voice is calm, and you hear the smile in them as you avoid her gaze. she sounds way too happy. when you look up, you see it. it’s the same look she gave you hours ago, right before her hands had your legs shaking.

you try to stay steady, plastering a neutral smile on your face. “this is, uh… this is paige.” you clear your throat, hating how awkward you sound, but you can feel her sizing you up. “paige, this is, um—”

“nylan,” your boyfriend cuts in, extending his hand, all confidence. paige stares at it for a second, like she’s deciding whether or not to play nice, before finally gripping his hand. her grip is firm, controlled, but the look in her eyes tells a whole different story. azzi and kayla wave at you, and you wave back, silently wishing by the grace of God they’d come interrupt this conversation.

“the paige bueckers,” he laughs, pulling his hand back. “she’s always talking about how great you are, but i was starting to think she was hiding you or something.”

paige’s eyes move to yours, then back to him. “she says i’m great?” she leans forward just slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “that’s funny. she’s never mentioned you.”

your stomach drops at the lie, a cold sweat breaking across your skin as you throw her a sharp look, willing her to shut up. but paige just shrugs, like she’s enjoying watching you squirm. you’re glad nylan’s too pressed into the moment to notice.

“how’d y’all meet?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink, curiosity growing. “i mean, you never really told me,” he mumbles to you more than anyone else.

paige shifts her weight, tongue swiping across her bottom lip before she starts speaking. “we met at a party last semester.” she pauses, letting the words sink in as her eyes shift to you. again. “she was a good girl back then, real sweet.” you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff.

your boyfriend laughs, slinging a tipsy arm around your neck.“yeah, she’s always been a good girl.”

paige’s crosses her arms over her chest, eyes boring into you, and it’s like they’re trying to make sure you haven’t forgotten. how could you?

earlier that evening …

the room is warm, and your initial visit to past some time before seeing your boyfriend had turned absolutely filthy. the scent of her sweat mixing with yours, your legs tangled in the sheets. paige’s fingers press into your stomach as she thrusts into you, lips pressed against your neck, her breath hot and heavy against your skin.

you were trying to keep quiet, but it was worth nothing. paige didn’t care. she was relentless, her hips grinding into yours, her hand sliding between your legs to rub circles over your swollen clit in order to get you off quicker. for the third time. the pleasure was too much, too intense, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped you as she filled you over and over.

“fuck—paige—” you whimpered, gripping her biceps, manicured nails leaving crescent shaped indents in her skin. you try to push her away, hands pressing weakly at her chest, but paige isn’t having it. she furrows her eyebrows, lifting her body to hover over you as her grip tightens, keeping you pinned right where she wants.

“i can—t.” you try to remind her you’ve got somewhere to be—nylan waiting for you in just a couple of hours—but it’s useless. paige knows you. knows exactly what your body craves and how you can’t resist her, even when you want to. especially when you want to.

“sure you can,” she replies, easily able to make out your words. she thrusts into you again, deep and slow, and you catch sight of the veins in her hands—the way they bulge under her skin, tensed with the effort of holding you still. she’s holding one leg up now, hitting you at an angle. “i’m right there, ain’t i, baby? give me one more.”

your back arches off the bed as you nod, even when your body’s screaming that you can’t, a choked cry slipping from your lips before you can stop it, and paige’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she watches you fall apart.

it’s too much—you’re so close, and she’s not letting up, not giving you a moment to breathe. “such a slut. take that shit.” she’s biting down on her bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together as she takes in the wetness between your legs. she swears she can feel you, past the vibrations coursing through her on her end.

you’re mumbling something, but you can’t even remember what it is—your mind’s too scattered, too fucked out to form any coherent thoughts. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, almost teasingly, before slipping two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” she orders, and you do. without thinking, you’re sucking on her fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. and even if you were thinking, you’d obey anyway. you’re sure you’d do anything she said, because before you met paige, you’d never once questioned your sexuality. never thought twice about how a girl could make you feel.

but paige? paige has made you feel things you’ve never felt with a man in your whole twenty-two years of life. nobody could fuck you this good. you’d said it before and you’d say it again.

she chuckles low, clearly satisfied, hips still moving against you. “my good girl. go ‘head and gimmie that,” she orders, clearly referring to your orgasm.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” before you know it, you’re coming hard—too hard—your entire body shaking. her blonde hair forms a curtain around her face, falling gracefully over her shoulders as she’s right there with you, quieter, but feeling it just as intensely.

you’re biting down on her fingers, moaning around them, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. paige pulls her fingers from your mouth, slipping them to your jaw, forcing you to look at her. “fuck, y’look so good like this,” she breathes, breathless, moving her digits between your legs to collect some of your slick, bringing it to her lips for a taste. “messy as hell.”

she finally collapses next to you, the bed shifting under her weight. you’re still catching your breath, chest heaving as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ground yourself. after a moment, you roll your head to look at her. “p,” you start, your voice soft, a bit raspy. “if you meet him later… you can’t…” you trail off. “—tell him.”

paige lets out a chuckle, her head lolling to the side as she grins at you, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “you think i’m stupid?” she teases.

your eyes trail over her, letting out a small, relieved breath, your lips twitching into a smirk as she reaches out, gently brushing some of your disheveled hair out of your face. her touch is almost tender, a definite contrast to how she’d just wrecked you.

she leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “i won’t tell, baby. y’secret safe with me.”

at the bar …

she’d kept her promise, precisely.

nylan presses a kiss to your temple, but you don’t feel the lingering wetness of it like you normally do. not when every inch of your skin still burns with the memory of paige’s touch.

paige stands there, staring at you with a smirk, still leaning against the wall like she’s done absolutely nothing wrong.

and maybe she hasn’t. because after all, she’s the only one who knows just how good you can be. not to mention how well you both can keep a secret, too.

[euphoriaslux]

two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

-

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

[ellecdc]

i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃

idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.

now i bid you good day my lady 🫡

I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for

poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat

Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.

“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.

“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.

“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”

Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”

The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.

Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.

The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.

“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 

“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 

“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.

“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”

Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.

“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.

“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 

“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”

It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”

They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”

Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 

And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.

You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”

Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 

“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 

You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.

“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 

“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”

“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”

“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 

Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 

Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”

You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.

“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.

“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught. 

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?  

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it. 

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right? 

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.  

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you? 

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how? 

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never. 

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock. 

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you. 

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.” 

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can’t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more. 

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts. 

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster. 

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.  

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…” 

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.  

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him. 

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening? 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say. 

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk. 

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.  

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,�� you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says. 

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering. 

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”  

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more. 

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire. 

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground. 

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs. 

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in. 

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft. 

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet. 

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass." 

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard. 

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night. 

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them. 

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods. 

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse. 

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove. 

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged. 

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage. 

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin. 

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.   

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip. 

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod. 

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head. 

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you. 

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover. 

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss. 

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere. 

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give. 

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated. 

No one gets left behind tonight. 

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder. 

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them. 

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”  

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.  

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer. 

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans. 

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps. 

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.” 

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching. 

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back. 

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking. 

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

[ennabear]

SACRIFICIAL ANGEL

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ good evening sevika nation, continuation of this because y’all are enablers who are bad for my screen time… just kidding aaaah i love you horny freaks and i don’t know what i’d do without you <33

cw: bottom dom!sevika x pervert!loser!reader, a tiny bit of voyeurism (if it even counts as that), reader bartends at the brothel, sevika is suchhhhh a flirt, found family trope????, strap usage, bondage, tribbing, etc etc etc. i really am all over the place with this one 🤦 hope u enjoy anyways

word count: 6.8k

you’d been bartending at babette’s for about 3 months when you first saw her. cracking her knuckles as she sauntered in with a wolfish grin, her long torso and even longer legs making her easily tower over the girls she came to see. never once had you felt jealousy toward them. in fact, you thought they had a harder job than you did— dealing with drunk old men who practically abused them and then left without sparing a tip wasn’t a job for just anyone. but now? you’ve never wanted to be one of them more.

it’s not that you’re not pretty, but you’re just so different from babette’s girls. you’re bigger and taller than them, trading in the slim curves of their bodies for thick muscle that coats your thighs and biceps. and you act differently, too. you’re not as sweet as them, and it honestly baffles you that they can always manage to treat their rudest customers with the utmost respect.

sevika comes in a few times a week, such an admirable woman to be in a place like this. she’s always sporting a scowl or a smirk, depending on her attitude for the day, and a fresh new scar or coating of blood on her knuckles. but there’s something you know about her that hardly anyone else does.

sevika doesn’t come to the brothel to fuck, she comes to get fucked. it’s almost impossible to miss, but nearly every night you watch her stroll in with her perfect posture, and then watch her stumble out of the doorway, practically tripping over her feet as she tries to zip up her pants and button up her shirt before anyone can see her half-naked body. hickies and bright red lipstick smudges paint her neck, and she’s still panting as her unsteady legs wobble themselves out of the door and down the street.

the first time you saw her this way, you had to take a breather behind the bar before you got so dizzy you returned home, faking an illness. she turns you on so much it’s hard to believe. and oh, how you’d kill to see what happens behind those closed doors.

to see sevika, all six feet of her warm brown skin and tight muscles on display, legs spread as wide as they can as her sopping cunt sucks in one girls strap, while another shoves a gag in her mouth, taking her hands and tying them together with a scrap of rope. how she’d completely submit to these angels, letting them use her however they please until her vocal cords give out and she’s laying in a pool of her own cum. and how she’d cover herself in that “scary lady” facade again as she leaves, thinking that what happens in that room stays in the room, although you know her secret. and you see it every night, whether it’s real or just another one of your perverted daydreams.

and so she walks in tonight like clockwork. the building is practically empty considering the time, one of the only benefits of working this late is to see her. she never looks your way, though, and why should she? she practically gets fed free drinks from her friends at the last drop, and it’s borderline disgraceful for her to have eyes for a woman like you when she has these gorgeous dolls promising to take good care of her.

they whisk her away in an instant. you’ve gotten to know these girls pretty well, they’re all sweethearts who crowd around your bar at the end of their shift. crystal, the shortest one, is so good with her words it’s baffling. she can smooth talk anyone into anything, and her friendly flirting never fails to make you giggle. monica, the oldest one, is so witty it almost makes you jealous. your jokes are nothing compared to her quick remarks, and she could easily take you in a fight if you didn’t have a few extra inches on her. ivy, the fairy, as you all call her, is the sweetest little nymph you’ve ever met. she often shares her extra tips with you when times get tough, and she’s always quick to offer you a helping hand behind the bar when you get swarmed.

it’s not a real family, but it’s the closest you’ve ever had. they look out for you and you do the same for them, quick to drag away any of the old men who harass them and scare them away with the sharp edges of your knuckles.

you watch as monica tugs at sevika’s choker like it’s a collar, dragging her away as the other two girls practically dangle off of her muscular arms. it must be a form of torture, watching them disappear behind those doors again. but you sigh and flip over the record that’s slowed to a stop on the turntable, hoping the sweet, melodic jazz will numb your brain long enough to survive the final hours of your shift. you sweep the floors, rinse out the glasses, and wipe down the bar.

without anything else to do, you sit and stare at the big stained glass window in front of you. your mind easily wanders, imagining your warm bed at home, the leftovers you’re gonna devour later, and sevika, as always. if only all of your money could purchase her attention, but even then attention doesn’t always equate to fondness.

your boredom gets to the best of you, and you wander out from behind the bar, peering down the long hallway. in hopes of what? nobody else is in here besides you, sevika, and the girls— not even babette. there’s really no point, but you carry on walking nevertheless. the empty rooms are somewhat eerie, they’re usually so full of love and lust, but now restored to their pristine condition.

you pause in front of the only occupied room of the night, standing just a few yards away from the door. it’s almost silent, but a light giggle breaks the silence, and you almost keel over and sob right there. red-hot jealousy floods your veins, and your whole body trembles as you try your hardest not to let a peep sneak past your lips.

the girls don’t hear you, to your luck, too busy smooshing their brightly colored lips over sevika’s to see which color suits her the most, while she trembles and blushes with a vibrator between her legs. you practically run to the end of the hall to escape the noise, sitting against the wall and twiddling your thumbs in an attempt not to cry.

so that’s why you wanted to take a stroll down the hall so badly. you fucking perv, you think to yourself. lucky you didn’t get your ass caught, get a damn grip!

bolting upright, you decide to return to the bar. babette want’s a new recipe anyways, might as well do it right now, and if you mess up a few times it’ll be an excuse to get plastered on the clock. with your head in your hands, you begin your trek back to the lobby. what an evil, evil curse comparison is.

then the curtains fly open a few feet in front of you, and you almost audibly gasp at the distraction before you stifle it with the back of your hand. sevika gets playfully pushed out of the room, her tits on full display as she fumbles with the buttons on her shirt. you swear you black out for a second, or maybe even a full few minutes, who’s counting?

she giggles to herself and sighs as she gets a few buttons closed, her weakened legs wobbling under her weight as she carries herself down the rest of the long hallway and out of the door. you follow behind her slowly and silently, careful not to go to fast or make even the slightest noise.

she doesn’t see you as she slips out of the door, mind too hazy to think about anything other than the pure pleasure pumping through her veins. as soon as the coast is clear, you dash back behind the jar, pouring a few mixers in a glass and swirling them around in an attempt to make it seem like you were doing anything.

monica, ivy, and crystal trail out of the room after a few minutes of catching their breath. the fairy takes a seat in front of you, smiling and giggling as monica wipes some dark brown lipstick off of crystal’s neck.

“that woman is crazy,” she laughs. “what’re you making?”

“i dunno, just something new.”

“good! we need something sweeter on the menu.”

“you’re only saying that because you’re sweet and you like other sweet things.” you tease.

“of course, that’s why i like you so much. and besides, all of the drinks here are catered toward old, cranky men.”

“yeah, because that’s who all of your customers are.” you say, rolling your eyes.

“not all of them,” crystal cuts in. “and certainly not her.”

“did she tip you well?” you wonder.

“oh, fuck yeah, she always does.”

“i think she’s the richest woman in the whole city.”

“damn,” you smirk, not wanting your jealousy to peek out through your face.

“it’s okay, we’ll buy you something special.” monica winks. you roll your eyes, although completely embracing the way they spoil you.

as soon as the girls are out of the door, you finish locking up before heading out too. you’re so full of emotions, you have no idea which one to prioritize. should you cry into your pillow as soon as you fall asleep, jealous and angry that you’ll never get to have sevika in the way you want? or should you celebrate the fact that you almost saw her completely shirtless, and replay that image in your mind until sleep takes you?

you settle for both. crying into your pillow as you shove one of your hands down your pants. the release is satisfying, but only for a quick second before you’re wishing it were her, or anyone really. the water temperature in your apartment building is awfully cold, and you shiver as you scrub yourself down. your nipples pucker and harden as you run your hands over your body, imagining sevika touching you instead.

any attempt at sleeping is useless, your mind races with different possible scenarios. you might be upset that she’s not in love with you now, but what if she caught you staring at her while she was still dressing herself, or even worse, lingering outside of that room and listening to them get her off? at least she doesn’t hate you, right?

to your luck, the phone rings, a free excuse to be awake at this time of night. you rise and walk to the other side of the room, yanking the phone off of the wall as the cord curls and hangs down.

you yawn. “hello?”

“i can’t come in today,” ivy’s voice crackles through the speaker. “i’m coming down with something, and i think monica is too. maybe i got it from her or, or gave it to—?”

“it’s okay, sweetheart.” you assure her. “get some rest, do you need me to come over?”

“no, crystal said she’d come take care of me. but thank you.”

“okay, call me if you need anything. i love you.”

“i love you too,” she yawns, her voice sounds thick and congested. “and tell my regulars i love them, you could always cover for me if you want.”

“oh, fuck off.” you laugh. “i’m not gonna cover your shift as a prostitute, but get well soon.”

“okay, thank you, sorry if i woke you up.”

“it’s okay, i wasn’t sleeping anyways. i’ll check in soon, okay?”

“okay, bye, goodnight.” she sighs, and you slot the phone back against the wall.

and so the day passes agonizingly slow without any support. it’s a friday, so as soon as it hits 3pm, people flood in to get a good start to their weekend. there are a few girls who you’re friendly with, but you don’t get to know them very well since they’re always leaving at the beginning of your shift. babette comes in, though, and she sits and chats with you to keep you company.

she’s such a sweet soul, and she’s so wise it makes you want to take notes on everything she says. she tells you crazy stories, laughs, cries, and gives you advice before returning to her office for the night. so you’re left alone, eyeballing various flavors and liquors into you glass in attempt to make a cocktail that’s sweet enough for your little fairy.

after about an hour of this, you give up and rinse your glass out with water. none of their regular customers come in tonight, which is strange because usually fridays are their busiest nights. sevika comes in though, she must not have gotten the memo, but you’re not about to complain.

“your favorites aren’t in tonight,” you warn her just as she steps in. “one of ‘em caught the flu and spread it to the rest.”

“shit,” she huffs, “d’you think i could have a shot with the hot bartender?”

you scoff at this, cheeks heating up involuntarily. “i’m not a hot bartender, just a regular bartender. and i don’t offer any… services, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“agree to disagree.” she winks, planting herself at the stool right in front of you. “and no worries, i’ll take a whiskey.”

an eerie silence fills the room, the same one that always lingers in the brothel. you’re practically dying to say something, but you don’t know what to say other than something stupid and embarrassing.

sevika breaks the silence, though, saying “they talk about you a lot, you know.”

“do they?” you pretend to be shocked, but they’re your family, your sisters. of course you talk about each other, who else do you have to be proud of in a world like this?

“yeah. apparently you’re scary as hell but you can crack some mean jokes.”

“sometimes,” you admit with a shy smile. “although it’s mostly just when i’m half asleep at the very end of my shift that i let that side of me come out.”

“will i be lucky enough to see it?”

“maybe if you hang around long enough.”

“you could keep me waiting ‘til the end of time and i’d still be here.” she says, almost too nonchalantly.

you roll your eyes and slide her her whiskey, propping yourself up on your elbows as you study her up close for the first time ever. her mechanical arm is extremely detailed, each nut and bolt have a different important job that can’t function without the others. like you and your sisters.

“although, i have to admit,” she finally says. “i don’t see how you can be scary.”

“you haven’t seen me dragging old perverts out of here by the hem of their t-shirts, that’s why.”

“does it happen a lot?” she asks.

“hell no, you think i let those fuckers live to see another day? to come back in here?” you laugh. “absolutely not.”

“so there’s the humor.” she notices.

“yeah,” you smile. “except i wasn’t joking. and i bet you’d do the same if you’ve ever encountered them.”

“oh, trust me, i have.” she recalls with a grunt. “dumbfucks littering the streets yet topside is concerned about us.”

you hum in response. “it’s really not fair… can i ask you a question?”

“fire away.”

“why do you come in here?” you start. “i mean— no shame, i work here, but you couldn’t have found a better brothel?”

“i dunno, i don’t really care for the better ones. plus, i’ve known babette forever, literally. she’s been around for so long, i enjoy supporting her and her workers.”

“yeah, that checks out.” you sigh, babette really is a sweetheart, she might be the only good thing left about the undercity. “but isn’t it hard not to fall in love with them? how do you do it?”

she pauses for a moment, calculating her answer in her mind first. “i love them and everything they do for me, but i’m not really, into them like that.”

“oh, i’m sorry for assumi—”

“no, i do like girls,” she assures you. “just not them. i like my ladies with a little bit more meat on their bones.” she says with a wolfish grin, eyeing your body up and down.

“oh, you stop it!!” you grin back at her, a warm, tingly feeling flushing over your body.

“i didn’t call you a hot bartender for nothing, but i don’t date for looks, anyways. actually, i don’t really date in general, but maybe i just haven’t found the one.” she says, putting a suggestive emphasis on the one. she slides her empty glass toward you and rises from her stool. you’re sad to see her go so early, especially when she just started flirting with you, but oh well. you can’t force her to stay.

“i better head out, silco’s got me going up to topside tomorrow morning for god knows what. thanks for the chat.” she announces, sliding a few coins your way.

“good luck with that.” you smile. “and if you ever need a drink, you know where to find me.”

she chuckles at you as she shoves the door open, and you see something in her smile that you’ve never seen before. a small gap in between her two front teeth, the cutest little addition to her scary, stoical face. as soon as she’s out of the door, you sit on the ground behind the bar and hold your head in your hands again. jesus christ, was that the love of your life flirting with you? if only she knew how much you liked her.

the idea of calling the girls and telling them what just happened tempts you, but they don’t know that you’re head over heels for her. and what if they are? what if one, or even all three of them see her as more than a customer? you don’t wanna make things weird, so you stand up and head to babette’s office to bid her farewell for the night.

her office is small and dimly lit, but cozy. she smiles at you warmly as you step inside, quickly thanking you for your time earlier, and wishing you a good night. all of your dread seems to float away from your body as you walk home, the bitter frost of the night doesn’t sting your fingertips, but instead the butterflies in your stomach warm them.

if you thought your sleep last night wasn’t restful, tonight is so much worse. not that you mind, though, because the thing keeping you up is sevika’s deep voice repeating things like i didn’t call you a hot bartender for nothing. and you could keep me waiting til the end of time. you can’t help but giggle into your pillow like a lovesick fool, and when the time rolls around again, you can’t wait to go to work. which is something you never thought you’d feel.

you spend your trek to work enjoying the afternoon sun and the birds that chirp into the atmosphere. the girls are all feeling better today— which is a little strange considering it’s only been 24 hours of them being sick— but you don’t question the kinds of drugs they take. they love their job and you love them, so why complain?

a few stragglers hang around your bar as the afternoon turns to evening, and you get a few extra coins from a couple who tips very generously. but your eyes are fixated on the clock, counting down the hours until evening turns to late night, when you get to see sevika. you wish you could ask about her, get to know her more, but who would you ask? you don’t know if she has friends, although she works for silco and practically babysits jinx, but there’s no way in hell you’d ask them, in the rare case you ever come across them.

so you have to settle for her seeking you out behind the bar, which you pray time and time again will happen again. and it does, somewhat, because when she walks in the door tonight, she nods at you with a flick of her head and winks.

sevika winks at you.

the marble countertop of the bar catches you as you almost fall forward. god, i want her to do that again, you think. you sit up on your stool, squeezing your thighs together and widening your eyes in an attempt to be able to see straight. your sisters snatch her away again, but fuck, she looked at you.

for the first time since she started coming in, you don’t feel jealous. you feel hopeful. sevika knows you now, and she likes you, even if she’s not obsessed with you in the same way you are with her. the back of your hand muffles your smile, you can’t wait until her 60 minutes are up and you get to see her again, and you really hope she winks at you again. or does something even better, like blows you a kiss, or gets down on one knee with a ring, or recites you a personal love poem.

but the gods are on your side tonight, because the four of them saunter out of their suite about half an hour early and come to surround your bar. they all have this awkward expression on their faces, one that says they’re guilty and they need your help keeping a secret. you push it aside though, because they probably just think it’s weird that you’re seeing them in such a vulnerable state. you don’t think it’s weird though. you work at a brothel, for fucks sake, and you’ve seen some pretty crazy things, and it’s not like you’re a virgin, although you admittedly don’t have much experience.

“glad to see you all are feeling better,” you greet. “and sevika, welcome back.”

she smiles, her mech arm rattling slightly. the girls all exchange a look at each other, “yeah, thanks.” crystal says, reaching up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around your neck in a hug. monica nudges ivy as she giggles, and sevika grins into her lap, human fingers fiddling with her metal fingers.

“oh fuck, don’t tell me you guys are in trouble again.”

“no, nothing like that.” crystal assures you.

“then what’s with the looks? you guys all look guilty as hell.”

“we’re just glad to see you again, that’s all.” monica smiles, one of her perfect, dark curls falling into her face gracefully.

you cringe, painfully aware that none of their stories are adding up. “so… can i get you anything?” you ask.

“well, uh—”

“not for us—”

“maybe lat—” they all say simultaneously. sevika is silent, giggling as quietly as she can into her lap, and completely avoiding eye contact with you. she looks up and raises her eyebrows at them, a silent signal for them to… do something.

“i think we’re gonna go now, but you two have fun!” crystal says, and they all run back down the hallway, giggling and tripping over one another in their heels as they do.

“what on earth is up with them?” you ask sevika.

“it’s nothing,” she says with a laugh. “or… maybe it’s something? i’m not too sure either.”

you slide her a glass of whiskey, just like you had last night. “this one’s on the house.”

“will you at least let me tip you?”

“well, i’m not saying no.” you grin, and she smiles at you again, and you hope that image of her is burned into your memory forever. she’s beautiful, it’s not hard to recognize that, but it’s a different feeling when you get to admire her up close. like a painting, you see images and replicas of them everywhere, but seeing them with your own eyes is always breathtaking. you can see every brushstroke, every small detail you hadn’t before, and it really comes to life.

“how long have you worked here?” she asks, derailing your train of thought.

“only a few months, but i’ve been bartending for longer.”

“you do an amazing job.” she compliments, flashing one of those grins at you again.

“oh please, you practically live at the last drop, and i poured that whiskey straight out of the bottle.”

she shrugs and rolls her eyes, “shut up and take the compliment.”

you have no choice but to giggle, and if sevika wants you to shut up, you shut up.

“i meant what i said last night— about you being a hot bartender, even though you didn’t seem to believe me.”

“why should i believe you? i wasn’t aware that you knew i existed until last night.” you retort.

“wish it were the same way for me, all i’ve been hearing about is you for months.”

“not my fault you like them so much.”

“i do, but i like you too.”

“i still don’t offer any services, if that’s what you’re getting at.” you say, letting her down easy, although you’d gladly offer her your services, you just wanna play with her for a while.

“of course not.” she smiles. “not unless you change your mind.”

you almost choke on your own spit. your heart pounds in your chest, and you’re 100% sure she can hear it right now. you giggle and hide your face in your hands, trying to keep your mouth shut for a few seconds before you leap over the bar and jump her bones.

“is that what they put you up to? to come sit here and flirt with me?”

“well, i’m not saying no, either. but i’m being genuine.”

you giggle again and punch her flesh shoulder over the counter, praying it’s not painfully aware how strongly you’re blushing right now. “no way you’re sitting here telling me about how badly you wanna get in my pants, when you just kicked out your own prostitutes.”

she shrugs, the scars on the side of her face slightly scrunching up as she smiles. “i can’t help it,” she laughs. “you charm me too much.”

“sevika!” you almost shout, completely baffled and astounded at her flirting. your mouth hangs open as you think of what else you can say, but nothing comes to mind.

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but i think you should at least know the effect you have on other people.”

you lean forward on the counter, holding your warm cheeks in your hands. “you should know the effect that you have on people.”

“i do, i’m very aware of it. especially from you.” she taunts leaning forward until your eyes are only inches away from hers. you peek up at her and almost faint, again, because her eyes are such a pretty, soft silver. and her lips are so pretty too, angular and smothered in a rich, deep brown lipstick. she notices you staring at her lips and smirks down at you. “can i kiss you?” she asks.

“i— wha—? yes. please.” you say, desperation and lust lingering in your voice. and her lips are on yours before you can even register it. suddenly all of the thoughts running through your mind, and there are a lot of them, cease to exist. because her lips are on yours, finally, and they’re so soft. she tastes spicy, almost, like tobacco and whiskey, but there’s a hint of something sweet, like honey or cinnamon.

she pulls away first, although you wish the two of you could be conjoined at the lips for the rest of time. “i wanna do that again.” you manage to choke out.

sevika chuckles at you, “not right now. not when you look like you’re about to faint, or die, even.”

“i’m sorry.” you whisper, holding your head in your hands.

“for what?” she asks, a twinge of concern in her voice.

“for making a fool of myself.” you laugh, hands covering your eyes as you refuse to look at her again, because maybe you will die.

“i can’t disagree with that,” she teases, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “but it’s no big deal.”

“sevika. get the fuck out of my bar before you kill me.” you threaten.

“alright.” she obliges, “but i’ll be seeing you tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

“get! out!” you whisper shout, lifting your head up to meet her gaze for the last time tonight.

“leaving right now.” she laughs, turning on her heel to exit the building before you faint in her arms.

it takes you a few minutes to reorient yourself, but you take a few deep breaths and small sips of water before the girls come clambering out of their room again. you’re dreading the conversation that’s about to come, especially because you’re not sure if they’re up to something or not.

“sooooo…” ivy prompts. “how’d it go?”

“nothing happened. nothing important, at least.” you answer with a groan, starting to tidy up the lobby before you leave for the night.

“really?” monica frowns. “is that why you’re wearing some new lipstick?”

you sigh and roll your eyes, there’s no getting out of this tonight. “just tell us, please! we wanna know!” ivy begs.

“yeah, we won’t make fun of you too much.” crystal adds.

“okay, yeah, she flirted with me until i got dizzy, and then she kissed me to make it even worse.” you admit. “but i know you fuckers had something to do with it.”

“well, yeah. we had to give her the confidence to do so. she’s had a crush on your for like… forever.” monica grins.

“you guys are liars!” you laugh, exasperated. “stop fucking around with me, please.”

“we’re not fucking around with you, we’re being honest. and you should go home before you start freaking out.”

“i can’t go home yet, i need to finish closing.”

“we’ll do it, get the hell out of here!”

and how could you say no to that? so you leave, and you smile the whole way home as you replay that moment in your head. it was just like you imagined, minus all the parts where you embarrassed yourself. but it doesn’t even matter, the love of your life kissed you. on the lips. even better than her winking at you. better than you could’ve foreseen.

for once, you sleep soundly, your mind is at a perfect balance to do so. giddy enough to not be overcome with anxiety, but embarrassed enough to have some sort of weight in your gut, not letting the butterflies carry you away. you’re in such a deep sleep, that you’re not amused when the phone rings again. peeling the comforter off of you, you rise and yank the phone off of the wall, getting deja vu from only a few nights ago.

“hello?” you ask with a little bit of sass in your voice.

“we can’t come in again, we’re sick… again.” crystal says.

“all of you? but you were fine yesterday.”

“well, it got worse or something, i dunno, but you’re on your own today.”

you sigh, already dreading the fact that your shift is gonna drag on without them. oh well, at least sevika promised she’d be there. “okay…” you bark. “get well soon, call me if you need anything.”

“yeah, bye, good luck!” she almost squeals.

you trudge back to bed, willing yourself to get a few more hours of sleep, although it’s nearly noon and you should get up soon. you ignore the clock, shoving your face in your pillow in an attempt to block the sunlight out from your eyes. but now you can’t sleep, you’re thinking about how you and sevika are gonna be alone together again, but this time you’ll have to face yesterdays events.

when your alarm rings, you groan, and then take a second to scream into your pillow, praying your apartment neighbors don’t worry too much. you dress in your usual work uniform, black shirt, cargos, non-slip shoes. sevika must see something really special in me, you think, because there’s no way she’s choosing me over everyone else in this town.

for breakfast, you guzzle down half of a protein shake followed by two anxiety pills, and then you brush your teeth for an extra few minutes today, just in case. and maybe you accidentally sprayed more perfume than you usually do, but nobody needs to know that. you shove your shoes on, mentally preparing yourself for what could be one of the worst days of your life.

strangely, suspiciously, yet to your luck, none of ivy, crystal, or monica’s regulars come in to visit them. you start to suspect they did it on purpose, although it seems impossible. but if they did, those girls are crazy and you don’t deserve them. in fact, the brothel is empty nearly the whole day. as soon as the other girls clock out, nobody comes in at all. not until sevika shows up when she usually does, and she’s the first drink you pour all day.

“i missed you,” she sighs, heading straight for her usual barstool.

“i… missed you too. did they tell you they weren’t gonna be here tonight?” you ask.

“uhh— yeah, they did. but i wanted to spend my evening with you, anyways.”

“oh, well i’m flattered. but i didn’t know you kept in touch with them like that.”

“well…” she starts, looking to the side in an attempt to conjure up something to say. “never mind.”

you slide her a usual glass of whiskey, and she thanks you. “i never got to tip you last night.” she frowns.

“yeah, sorry, i kinda freaked out on you.”

“it’s okay, i’m sorry if i’m weirding you out or if we’re moving too fast or anything, but i did mean it. i meant what i said and i meant to kiss you, i wasn’t drunk or anything.”

“i meant it too, although i wouldn’t have overreacted if i could’ve helped it.” you giggle, suddenly completely aware of the fact that you’re flirting with her again. right now. and she kissed you. and now you have something together.

“i was thinking i could tip you tonight.” she smirks, eyeing you up and down again.

“oh, please. you know you get free drinks from now on.” you say, rolling your eyes at her kindness.

“i’m honored, although i was thinking about a different way to repay you.” she says, licking her lips as she slowly starts to walk toward you.

you’re frozen in place, your knees tremble as you realize what she means. her nose brushes yours as she finishes approaching you, and you can’t help but lurch forward to connect your lips to hers. she kisses you back with all of her might, and you almost slip and fall as she slides her tongue into your mouth. she tastes even better now. stronger and deeper and sweeter, and you start to crave it as soon as you taste it.

it isn’t long before you have her pinned against the countertop, shoving your tongue down her throat as she whimpers into your mouth. a loud crash echoes through the room, and you shiver as soon as you feel the whiskey splattering against your pants. “fuck,” you grunt. she whines when you pull away to assess the damage, but the glass isn’t shattered too much, and there’s only a small puddle under your feet.

“mmmh…” she whines when your mouths meet again. “let’s take this somewhere— mph!! somewhere else.”

and that’s how you find yourself stripping her naked with your teeth, the two of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. her shirts are always short and extremely revealing, but you still gasp and twitch when her abs are finally revealed to you. her v-line is thick and deep and it leads a perfect trail to her dripping hole, as if her thick, dark happy trail wasn’t enough.

“the rope.” she chokes out, and you don’t waste a single second, tying her hands together and then above her.

with her arms bound, you have more freedom to undress her without her squirming and getting in your way. as soon as her pants are off, you notice a dark, wet patch in the center of her boxers. “like what you see?” she teases. you gulp and nod, suddenly unable to form any words. “get the strap.” she demands. and who are you to say no to her?

you manage to buckle it up before everything really catches up to you. she’s smirking below you, watching as you pathetically ogle her thick shoulders, puffy, brown nipples, taut abs, and quivering, wet hole. “so? are you ready?” she prompts. as soon as she says the word, you can’t control yourself. you slide into her incredibly easily, slick dripping down her ass and making a puddle underneath her already.

your hips snap into hers, it’s messy and uncoordinated and you don’t really know what you’re doing, but sevika loves it. she’s on cloud nine, writhing and whimpering and squeezing her eyes shut as you pound into her. “mmm, sevika, is it good? am i doing good?” you ask.

“so good.” she assures you, panting. “so fucking good, gonna make me cum and we’ve just started.”

“fuck!” you gasp, and you’re squirming on top of her as your own orgasm hits you like a train. it came out of nowhere, but it’s the most intense one you’ve probably ever had. as if all of those times you’ve desperately rubbed your aching clit to the thought of her were for nothing.

“keep going.” she whines. “please, you’re doing s-so good for me, i’m so fucking close.”

something comes over you. something rough and dirty and animalistic. you yank the strap off, hardly bothering to unbuckle it beforehand. she whines again, wishing she still had your cock plugging her up, but she can’t complain when you sit your cunt on top of hers, your shared mixture of slick making an unholy wet smacking sound. never in a million years did you expect sevika’d be such a sacrificial angel, a dirty slut with needs.

her hard clit twitches when it meets yours, and she moans so loud you’re sure it can be heard outside of the building. at least nobody else is here, inside, or you two would get busted. “how long have you wanted to do this?” she asks.

“f-for such a long time.” you admit. “i’ve been needing it so badly, sevika.”

“how… how badly? hmm?”

“you don’t even know.” you whimper. “i would listen to you in here whenever i needed it the most. and sometimes i’d watch you leave half undressed and wish it was me who did that to you.” you slide herself against her as deeply as you can, and you’re practically humping her like a dog at this point. the pair of you only get more soaked until sevika’s clenching her legs around yours, locking you in place as she cums so hard she can’t see straight.

as soon as she comes down from her orgasm, she says something quick and muffled like “ididitonpurpose” but you don’t quite hear it.

“i did it on purpose to fuck with you.” she sighs, repeating herself more clearly now. “i’ve had my eye on you for such a long time, i thought you’d eventually pick up on it and make a move, but you never did. so i started fucking with you instead.”

“what?” you ask, completely appalled. “are you kidding?”

“no, most of the nights i’ve spent here has been me and the girls plotting on how to fuck with you the hardest. notice how none of their other customers are here? and how they mysteriously recovered from their illness for a day until catching it again?”

“wait, so is this a prank?” you ask, brain fuzzy from having sex with sevika but also from finally piecing things together.

“well, not this.” she says, gesturing with her head to your mutually nude bodies tangled together. “but they helped me plan the evening, yes.”

“you… fucker!” you shout, a light giggle following after. “am i really that blind?”

“i guess so.” she shrugs. “now, are you gonna untie me so i can show you what my arm can do, or are you gonna sit there with your jaw open like that.”

you smack her shoulder playfully, ducking down and settling yourself on her lap for a final makeout session before you have to give up your top duties for the night. not like you care, though, because her arm can do some pretty cool tricks, and she tips you well nearly every night from now on.

author’s note: tehe haiii i didn’t wanna add this at the beginning cause i always yap too much, so if you made it all this way THANK YOU FOR READING 🤭 i luv you guys so much and i love our little sevibear… apologies for teasing the hell out of this and taking forever to finish LMAOOO oops. anyways special shoutout to my 3 favorite mutuals (you know who you are) for giving me motivation to finish this, i love you guys the mostest mwah mwah mwah y’all are wayyyyy too nice to me and i appreciate you more than you know <333 comments and reblogs are very appreciated!!!! lmk what you thought!!!!!! thanksssss 🫶

[wtfsteveharrington]

"an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them" with Luca please!

a/n: i love luca so so bad i fear s3 has giving me horrific brain rot for him baby boy i’m knocking on ur door and getting on one knee

contents: kissing, some pda, cluelessness, all my faves

"I mean... I think we're just friends, right?"

Luca takes a long swig from his cold beer pint. Using the drink as an excuse to buy himself time to think. It was some draft IPA that was just the perfect level of pretentious where he didn’t look like a dick but separated himself from some domestic bottle. Something that would matter to no one except a man with his level of perception anxiety. Condensation dripping down his wrist which your eyes follow, trailing the drops as they roll down his forearm.

"Right. And would it be worth risking things between us to test out... Something more? Because I don't want to lose you just to find out we’re being a touch crazy.”

"I don't want to lose you either." You rush out after his sentence, shaking your head while resting your hands on your knees. The rough material of your jeans against your palms helping to keep you grounded.

It had been a half an hour since you and Luca passed some wonderful older woman on the street who needed directions. Luca was able to relay them by heart, though it didn’t stop you from double checking on your phone to ensure you didn’t send her off on a misguided path. She beamed at the two of you once she knew her way, patting Luca’s arm and asking the question that has broken the two of you ever since. “How long have you two been married?”

To which the two of you sputtered out a mess of words, none of which made any sense, and the older woman gave a tsk tsk tsk. “You better propose before it’s too late. Shouldn’t let such a catch get away.” The takes off on her journey. Both of you stood their with your jaws dropped before you finally started continuing on your path to the bar and trying to laugh it off.

But neither of you could let it go.

“We could-…“ You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back and strengthening your resolve, “We could kiss? That way we can feel there’s nothing there and get it out of minds.”

Luca stares down at his beer, eyeing the way the foam is slowly dissipating and contemplating his options. “Just one kiss?”

You nod, “Just one. Lips only, no tongue, nothing crazy.”

His body’s turning to you, eyes filled with apprehension. Searching your face for any sign of doubt, which he doesn’t find, before nodding back to you. “Just one. We’re realize how silly this is and put it behind us.”

Luca’s hand comes to rest on top of yours, the bar suddenly feeling so much warmer and intimate than before. Thankfully no one was paying attention to your little table tucked away in the back corner. He’s watching your breathing, watching your expression. Catches your tongue dart out to moisten your lips and he does the same.

He’s close enough now where you can feel the warmth rolling off his body, you can hear each steady breath he takes. “Just… Stop me if this is weird, yeah?”

You nod, leaning in as well until your noses brush against each other and your eyes fall closed before your lips connect against his. They’re slightly cold from his drink, hints of beer still on his lips. You stay connected for just a moment before you pull away, eyeing him apprehensively.

“How was that?”

He sucks in some air, staying close to you still. “It was, uhm, chaste. To say the least.”

There’s a flush on your cheeks at that.

“Well… I mean, We can do a real kiss if you want.”

Luca’s eyes are on yours, his hand moving to slide up your thigh and grabs ahold of it. “We should just make sure, y’know? Because that told me nothing.”

It’s a flawed plan but you’re not thinking as clearly with him this close.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you bring the two of you closer once again. Your lips finding his and you let out a soft moan as you feel his part under yours. He takes the chance to let his tongue slide against your bottom lip before slipping between your lips and into your mouth. You lace one of your hands in his hair while his free arm wraps around your waist now.

It’s his turn to groan into the kiss. The sound causes you to press your thighs together while your tongue moves along his. Your breathing is picking up and you’re convinced he can hear just how hard your heart is beating.

He tastes sweet. The IPA mixed with vanilla from the custard he kept having to taste during service. It was addicting to say the least.

Minutes, hours, days pass by as you lose yourself in him. Eventually you hear him groan, pulling back slightly to press another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning back in his chair. Beaming at your shocked expression.

Your hand comes up, fingers resting against your lips as you chase the feeling of the kiss. Oh.

Luca has to adjust himself on the seat, chuckling at the sight of you as he tries to relax his breathing. “She, uh, she might have known what she was talking about.”

Luca looks smug, even with his blushing cheeks, as he takes another drink of his beer. His hand never leaving your thigh.

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[starzblvd]

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

[kingkatsuki]

Kaji finds you crying in an alley on one of his evening patrols, and it’s then that he realises just how hopeless he is when it comes to women— especially when he thinks they’re pretty.

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, slight suggestive thoughts from Kaji, mostly comfort.

Word Count: 2k.

Kaji was not good in situations like these, averting his eyes as though he’d caught you doing something nefarious while he stood statuesque in place. He pauses his music to confirm that you’re actually crying, hearing the muted sobs tumble out from between your pretty lips with more clarity as Kaji tries to decide what to do next. He immediately regrets choosing this route for his scheduled Friday patrol, wondering why he hadn’t tried to take the path that didn’t fall under the only open izakaya in the area.

He’d expected to break up a bar fight tonight, or at the very least stop someone getting mugged. Or perhaps guide a drunken worker in the right direction home, like he’d done two weeks ago. But Kaji had not prepared himself for this— especially when he had no idea what to do in this situation. His pink sucker stills between the side of his gum and his teeth as he shoves both hands into his grey hoodie pocket— maybe he should text Kusumi or Enomoto, they’d be far better at this than him.

“Sorry,” You sniffled from your position on the ground, shifting your thighs slightly as you brought your knees up to your chest. Seemingly unbothered you were wearing a skirt as the fabric bunched around the tops of your thighs. And if Kaji was any less of a man he’d be able to get the perfect view of what colour panties you were wearing under it, “I’m not normally like this.”

Kaji frowned, cursing himself for having such depraved thoughts when you were in front of him crying. Despising the way his cock throbbed at the thought as he tried to think of something, anything more than what kind of panties you had on right now.

Why was he like this?

You didn’t seem to care as tears continued to spill down the sides of your face, your head poised towards the ground to try and hide yourself away as people continued walking down the rowdy street. Kaji couldn’t leave you like this— not when there were awful men out at night, and if they found you there’s absolutely no telling what they’d do.

And why the fuck were you alone?

“Can I call someone for you?” He shifted from foot to foot, standing awkwardly in front of you as you immediately looked up at him with pleading eyes, shaking your head no.

“Please, don’t—” Your friends had told you this would happen, and you should’ve listened, “There’s no one I wanna call right now.”

Then what the hell was he supposed to do? Kaji groaned internally, wondering if he’d at least be able to take you somewhere safe until you were ready to go home.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You managed to warble through a fresh hot stream of tears, but Kaji wasn’t so sure.

Shifting his sucker from one cheek to the other as the hard candy clinked against sharp canines, Kaji finally allowed himself to step forward. Thinking about leaning against the wall beside you before deciding against it, trying to appear as harmless as possible as he flopped down to the ground beside you. He spread his thighs in a feeble attempt to quell the throb of his chub beneath tight black skinny jeans as he rested his forearms on top of his knees.

He notices you visibly stiffen beside him, despite his attempts to appear as non-threatening as possible as he heaves a rough sigh. Tugging his silent headphones down around his neck he tries to think about what Hiragi would do in this situation, what he should say. Was it rude to call you dumb for being out in a dangerous part of town all by yourself this late? Probably, but he was right. Kaji decides on another question as he leans back against the cold brick wall.

“Why you cryin’?” It came out harsher than he’d intended, immediately noticing his mistake when you broke into a fresh sob beside him. A light hue of pink dusted against his cheeks at your reaction as he wished he had a tissue or something to offer you, deciding on the only thing left in his pockets as he shuffled to pull out a single strawberry chupa chups. Holding it out to you as he kept his eyes trained forward, lips smoothed into a firm line with his jaw locked.

He heard the pretty sound you made at his offering, a saccharine scoff that seemed to be more of an exhale as you reached out to take the lollipop from his outstretched hand. Your soft fingers grazed his as Kaji felt tiny sparks of electricity bloom upon contact, trying to ignore the heat that they raised against his skin as it shot through his veins like molten lava.

“Thanks,” You murmured, cradling the lollipop between your manicured fingers as you brought the side of your thumb up to your eyes to try and wipe away the pearly tears that clung to thick lashes and blurred your vision.

This is the closest he’s ever sat to a girl, Kaji thinks. The flowery scent of your perfume invades his nostrils and has him feeling lightheaded as he tries to ground himself against the cold brick. Glad he decided to sit down, as he’s certain any longer his legs might have given way.

“It’s stupid.” You murmur, sniffling as you begin to toy with the wrapper of the candy at the top of the stick. Pressing your nail beneath it as you twirled it between your smaller fingers, leaning your hands against bare thighs.

“Ain’t stupid if you’re cryin’ over it.” Kaji continues. Honestly, it probably is stupid— but he’s glad he’s managed to stop you being noisy for a moment at least. Even though the tears still continue to silently trickle down your cheeks, leaving messy lines of ruined make-up in their wake.

“My boyfriend just broke up with me,” You continued, “Or well, I just broke up with him— I don’t even know.”

Kaji groaned internally, he was right— it was stupid. It felt as though he’d started a ridiculous conversation with Umemiya that he couldn’t escape. Remembering the conversation he’d had with his leader a few weeks ago about a heartbreaking scene in one of his favourite K-dramas that had him sobbing for hours after.

“So what you doin’ out here?” He pressed, trying to push his apathy to the side. It was late and dark, and you were sitting out on the street like you had nowhere else to go.

Kaji didn’t have the first clue about love or romance, aside from the songs that would sometimes come up on shuffle or the shitty rom-coms that Sako used to make him watch.

“I dunno.” You shivered, and it was then Kaji noticed that you weren’t even wearing a jacket.

This was so annoying. He groaned internally for getting himself into this situation as he pulled his headphones off from around his neck, moving them to sit on either side of his knee for a moment as he reached out to tug his grey hoodie up and over his head. Tousling his hair with static as he pulled it off before handing it out towards you.

“What?” You turned your head towards him in surprise, “Oh, no— it’s okay. I can’t take that—”

“Just put it on,” Kaji growled, feeling the brisk evening air hit his bare arms as he leaned back against the wall. Giving him a slightly better angle to look at you without turning his head to the side.

“I don’t wanna ruin it,” You continued, shaking your head, “My make-up’s—”

“Just fuckin’ put it on.” He cut you off briskly with a harsh snap, shaking his head. He’d definitely had worse than a bit of spoiled makeup on his clothes, and he was positive that bloodstains were harder to remove than some lipstick or whatever it was Tsubaki-chan used.

That thought had Kaji’s thoughts wondering. He tried to think about what Tsubaki-chan wanted whenever he was sad, and his mind settled on something. Pulling out his phone to check the time as he saw Pothos should still be open for at least another thirty-five minutes— that should be long enough.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, moving to pull his hoodie up and over your head as Kaji took the opportunity to watch you again. You really were pretty, he wondered what could’ve happened to make a guy break up with you— because he was positive that if you were his girlfriend he wouldn’t want to let you go.

But women were more trouble than they’re worth— at least that’s what he’d overheard Seiryu say before. Moving his headphones back around the curve of his neck as Kaji sat beside you in silence, the rowdy bass of music from the nearby izakaya mingled with the chatter of its patrons the only sound with your muted sniffles.

Kaji was thankful you’d calmed down with little effort, but he wondered whether beating your ex-boyfriend to a pulp would’ve been easier.

“You shouldn’t cry over some guy.” He manages to force the words out, trying to provide his own kind of comfort.

“I didn't think he was just some guy, though,” You pouted gently, and it made Kaji’s eyes focus on the glittery gloss of your lips, “I really liked him.”

“Yeah, well clearly you deserve better.” He snapped, nose scrunched in irritation, “You’re too pretty to be cryin’ over some loser in an alleyway. Do you know how fuckin’ dangerous that is?”

Kaji caught himself after he’d said it, noticing his mistake as he willed the ground to swallow him whole. He’d just called you pretty—

He moved his lollipop back to the middle of his mouth, pressing the ball of candy against his tongue as he sucked hard. Trying to tame the frustration, anger and annoyance that burned inside him, reaching boiling point as he felt his heartbeat begin to lull.

“I know,” You mumbled sadly, “I should’ve just gone home, but I wasn’t ready to go just yet.”

“Okay, so don’t go home yet,” Kaji stretched his legs out in front of him to ease his muscles before he shifted to stand, moving a palm to brush off any dirt from his ass before he reached out to offer you the same hand, “You comin’ or what?”

You looked up at him through pretty lashes, and Kaji had to catch himself when your glistening eyes met his. Trying to ignore the incessant throb inside his chest as his heart rattled against its cage desperate to be set free as you reached out to take his hand. The same pulse of electricity ignited inside him as he wrapped his fingers around yours, using his grip to pull you up off the ground as you came to stand in front of him. Dangerously close to his face you gave him a shy, soft smile.

“Where we going?”

The feelings building inside him were only made worse when you moved to stand. From the way you were engulfed in his scent now to his oversized hoodie practically dwarfing your form as he tried to swallow the wetness from his sucker that puddled at the back of his throat.

“What? You got any better offers right now?” He snapped, before biting down on the lollipop inside his mouth. Crushing it beneath his teeth as he hated himself for how harsh he sounded, although you didn’t seem to mind.

“I guess not.” You laughed bitterly, a soft smile appearing on your face as Kaji tried to remember to breathe.

Kaji’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly at the sight of you— You looked real pretty when you were smiling, even with dried makeup and tears caked against your cheeks. It made him want to be the one to make you smile like that again.

“You’ll see.” Kaji began to pull you through alleyways to try and avoid the rowdy crowds spilling out from the sole izakaya in the area on the busy Friday night as he made his way in the direction of Pothos.

Noticing that he was still holding your hand— and you hadn’t pulled away.

[pure-smut]

adrenaline.

featuring: Togame Jo x f!reader

contains: fighting, blood, established relationship, public s*x, creampie, Togame is a bit feral

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Togame Jo is the sleepiest, most relaxed boyfriend you’ve ever had.

You’ve been together for six months and it took you a while to get used to his slower pace, his long drawl, his delayed responses. But now you love it – you love that he gives you a second to think clearly before you speak or lets you breathe before a spiral.

You’re used to seeing him pad around your apartment in nothing but sweatpants, slung low to expose the cut of muscle on his hips. You’ll never get bored of watching him, his sleepy yawns and stretches, the muscles in his back moving hypnotically. And when he climbs back into bed, pressing languid kisses against your lips, his hips stirring as he grinds into you, you know you could happily stay at this pace forever.

It takes another two months before you see a different side to Togame.

You’re walking home hand-in-hand from the cinema. It was a late showing and most of the street is crowded with boisterous party-goers, drunk men standing in clumps outside of the pubs and bars.

It used to make you nervous, walking this late at night, but Togame’s large presence next to you is reassuring. You know he’s second-in-command at Shishitoren so the rational side of your brain assumes he knows how to fight, how to defend himself and other people. But it’s at odds with the Togame you know, who wears a lazy grin and takes an additional five seconds to register a sentence. So you clutch his hand a little tighter.

A group of men stare at you as you walk past. You can feel their eyes like lasers on you, despite keeping your own gaze firmly ahead. They’re not Shishitoren, not wearing the signature yellow jackets, so you’re already unsettled by their looks.

Don’t say anything, you chant inside your head, as if they can hear you. Please don’t say anything.

“Hey, sexy!” one of them calls, his friends laughing and whistling.

You grimace, stepping closer to Togame.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” he calls again and some of the others join in.

“We just wanna talk, baby!”

“Leave that scrub behind and come over here!”

You try to keep walking, keep ignoring them, but Togame stops still. When you look up at him, the smile you know so well is gone from his face. He’s staring back at the men with hard green eyes, his jaw set, as they continue to catcall.

“Jo…”

Togame looks back down at you, his face softening. He points at a nearby alleyway, empty of people.

“Go wait over there for me, sweetheart,” he says. “You don’t need to see.”

You nervously glance between him and the group of men. There’s at least six of them.

“Will you be okay?” you ask, gripping his hand. He gives you a grin, a sliver of the old Togame returning.

“Yeah,” he says and his voice is solid.

With a last squeeze of his hand, you scurry over to the alleyway. Even as you hurry away, you hear one of the men laugh, “What’re you gonna do against six of-”. He’s cut off by a sickening crunch. You turn into the alleyway, eyes squeezed shut, breathing hard.

You’re too scared to look but all you can hear is a symphony of yelps and cries, “oof!” and “aah!” and the sound of glass breaking. You only chance a peek when you hear the scuffle of several feet and see the group of men running away, screaming.

Your mouth drops open to see Togame standing there, not even out of breath.

“Jo…?” you squeak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He crosses the street to meet you in the alleyway, pulling you deeper inside. “It’s okay.”

Togame reaches out for you and you see the blood on his knuckles, the skin torn away. You suck in a breath at the sight of it and Togame tips his hands, facing them palm up so you don’t have to see.

Your eyes meet his. There’s a mark high on his cheekbone where someone landed a hit but he’s otherwise untouched. You breathe out a sigh of relief and step into his arms.

Togame wraps you in a bear hug, his hand cradling the back of your head.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he whispers. “I’ll always be okay.”

You pull back slightly to look at him. Now you’re closer, you can see the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes. His pupils are blown out and there’s something about him that looks… intense.

Togame dips his head to kiss you and it’s not his usual lazy pace. This time he kisses you hard, his tongue invading your mouth and his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. He hugs you tighter, holding you flush to his body, and it’s then you feel the bulge he’s harbouring.

Togame pulls you deeper into the alleyway, into the shadows, and presses you against the wall. He’s breathing hard, his hands grabbing at you, pushing under your skirt to tug your panties down.

You’re pretty sure no one can see you here, cloaked in darkness, but you can hear the buzz of the crowd only a few feet away. It doesn’t seem to bother Togame who’s already grabbing your thigh to lift it, spreading your legs.

“Jo?” Your voice is tentative, unsure, but when Togame dips his fingers between your folds, he finds you already slick.

“I need this,” he breathes. “I need you.”

As soon as you nod, Togame starts sucking rough kisses against your neck. His movements are frantic, desperate, as he tugs his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock. You only have a second to feel his fat mushroom tip nudging past your lips before he presses inside you, stretching your ill-prepped hole.

You cry out and Togame claps a hand over your mouth, silencing you. His other hand is under your ass, holding you up as he slides deeper inside you. He wastes no time, not giving you a moment to adjust before he starts to pump in and out of you.

“Stay quiet for me, baby, okay?” he says hoarsely in your ear.

You nod and he lets his hand fall away from your face, pressing his lips against yours instead. His cock drags against yours walls so deliciously and every slam sends a jolt from your clit through your body. You gasp into his mouth to stop from moaning.

Togame tips his head back, eyes closed and face twisted in pleasure. You feel so hot, so wet, so fucking good. He likes to take his time with you, to savour you properly, but not right now. Right now, he needs to fuck, needs to take you hard and fast and dirty.

Adrenaline courses through his veins from the fight and he takes it out on your pussy.

Feral, you think as he tips forward to grunt against your neck. Animalistic.

His cock rubs against all the right spots inside you. That, combined with being forced to stay quiet and the ruckus of the public only feet away, fills you with a thrill. Togame is taking you, needing you so badly he can’t wait for home. He needs you now. The thought only urges you towards an orgasm, your walls clamping down around him.

“That’s it, baby, milk my cock,” Togame groans as he feels your slick pussy squeeze him. “Take my load like a good girl, yeah?”

You whimper quietly, holding tight onto Togame to stop from crying out as a wave of pleasure consumes you. Your thighs tighten around him, your forehead on his shoulder as you cream silently on his cock.

Togame’s movements start to stutter, his breathing turning ragged in your ear. He bites his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, burying his cock in you. You feel him cum, a hot, sticky flood inside you as Togame grunts softly. He gives a few more shallow pumps before pulling free.

Togame lets his head fall forward on your shoulder, breathing hard.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I just really needed that.”

“It’s okay, Jo.” You press soft kisses against his temple. “I didn’t mind.”

Togame gives you his usual grin, his eyes soft again. You reach up to kiss him, feeling his languid pace return.

“But,” you say, matching his grin. “I might start hanging around after your fights more often.”

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[iheartsteve0704]

Agathario | Modern Day - Separation AU

Nicholas is still alive but due to work, high stress, and misunderstanding Agatha and Rio feel like they’ve been drifting apart and somehow land on a separation

None of them want this but their communication has been so poor lately and in the midst of a heated fight, they gaslight themselves into thinking each other wants this

They don’t know if this is heading towards divorce, they hope not, but they give each other the space

They still live in the same house, for Nicholas’s sake, and act normal around him but tension is high and it feels like they are walking on egg shells

Rio sleeps in their bedroom and Agatha sleeps down the hall (the older woman doesn’t slip into that room until she’s certain Nicky has gone to sleep, but he knows because sometimes he sneaks into bed with Rio and cuddles up with her)

They also somehow land upon that it’s okay to see other people during this time (both don’t even explore this fact because it’s insane but one night Agatha has her friend JEN over during wine night and she tries to convince her to download Tinder and if Rio runs into her room and cries well she’d never admit that)

Around 2 months later, they have to attend a party they greed to go to months ago and get ready in the same house but separate rooms while Nicky goes to their neighbor Lila’s (shoutout Lilia!!!)

Agatha passes by their room and notices Rio struggling to zip up the back and Rio is able to sense Agatha watching her through the crack in the door so she asks her to come in and zip it (and maybe Agatha stares too long at her smooth skin and relishes in the way Rio shiver at the graze of her knuckles down her spin)

Agatha also relishes in the fact that Rio’s eyes cast over her body in their vanity mirror because she knows this is Rio’s favorite dress on her and maybe she wore it on purpose

They leave in separate cars, even though after the dress indecent Agatha offers her a ride and tries not to throw up at the fact that Rio is getting picked up by a friend who Agatha knew had a big crush on her wife

At the party, they keep their distance from each other but their eyes can’t help but land on one another

Agatha stares too hard when Rio’s friend clings to her side as the younger woman works the room (Agatha was never one to smooze but was happy to admire her wife while she does so, now she watches this other woman (younger and Agatha thinks prettier) fill her spot for her)

Rio has to take a cigarette break when she sneaks a peak at Agatha at the bar area, where she sees a guy trying to talk her up and even moves to tuck a piece of her tousled hair behind her ear (what Rio doesn’t see because she leaves is the way Agatha steps back in disgust and holds up her left hand up revealing her wedding band)

After this, Agatha ends up going outside too and bumps right into Rio making her cig fall onto the floor and burn out. Rio has a curse word for the offender on the tip of her tongue until she turns around and sees her wife

They stare at each other, tension so thick you can cut it with a knife after all that jealousy inside.

Then it’s Rio who puts her hand on the curve of Agatha’s waist and Agatha moves in closer to cup Rio’s soft cheek. They’re like magnets, pulling closer to each other, until a car pulls into the parking lot and the moment is gone and Agatha quickly is moving back inside

The rest of the party consists of the two longingly gazing at each other across the room and no one really exists around them

At the end of the night, Agatha is drunker than she should be (considering she has to drive) and is being borderline harassed by the man at the bar who insists he drive her home

Rio wanted to step in from the moment he looked at her wife earlier but doesn’t until she hears her wife say “Don’t touch me” and she springs into action and decks him in the jaw while saying some words in Spanish that aren’t very kind

The words “TOCUH MY FUCKING WIFE AGAIN AND YOULL BE SORRY BUDDY. ILL END YOU, I PROMISE” fall out of her mouth loudly and Rio means every word, eyes blazing with anger

The gross man laughs at her and makes a comment about Rio not being by Agatha’s side all night and Rio lunges at him to hit him again

It’s Agatha who pulls Rio back after they draw a crowd and walks them to Agatha’s car

When they arrive to the vehicle, away from prying eyes, Rio takes the key from the older woman and looks at her with concerned eyes. She scans the woman with worry. She asks “did he touch you? Hurt you? I swear to god I’ll go back there and k*ll him. If he even tried anything with you I will-“ but she can’t finish that sentence because Agatha kisses her with so much longing and passion tears slip from both their eyes

Rio drives them home, one hand on the steering steaming wheel and the old holding her wife’s hand (they are both absolutely beaming)

When they get home they silently agree to go into their shared bedroom, strip down and just hold each other in bed while they fall asleep in each others arms

In the morning, they have hard conversations but it’s real and they need it and they finally understand their problems and how to fix it and laugh at the fact that neither wanted a separation and maybe have incredible makeup sex

After they shower, and do unholy things in there, they end up in the kitchen and dance and laugh around the sun filled room while they cook and can’t keep their hands off each other

Nicky comes in through the back door and sees his moms happy again, running into their arms and they embrace him with equal enthusiasm because their family is whole again

[written-in-flowers]

Recording in Session: Han x Male!Reader

Pairing: Han Jisung x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Lee Know x Han, Chan x Male!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff | AU: idolverse, ninth member au

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Considering Chan's strict "No-Studio-Sex' rule, Han takes you somewhere that doesn't have such restrictive, authoritarian rules.

Tags: polyamory, open relationship, idol!reader, sub!han, dom!reader, dom/sub undertones, studio sex, dry humping, light spanking, sloppy blowjobs, rough blowjobs, throat fucking, face fucking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, facials, cum swallowing, han loves cum and isn't afraid to show it

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Taglist: @james-is-here @onementally-unstabel-kid @omg-lexiloveyou @drinkingrumandcocacola @diverseinterests @kenaicantcommunicate @galaxy4489 (let me know below if you want to be tagged!

Here's What You Missed on Newbie!

Next on Newbie!

****

“Where are you guys going after?”

“I don’t know yet. We haven’t picked a place. You?”

“He wants to go to this sushi place near his dorm. He said he knows I’ve been craving it, and now he is too.” 

You both sat next to one another on the couch. Han scrolled away on his phone, likely researching the sushi restaurant, while you looked for places on yours. Recording days usually took a while, so you knew you’d have a long wait ahead of you for Chan. You guessed you could look up places until your turn in the booth came. The idea of being alone with Chan was satisfying enough, but you supposed you needed some shared activity or experience. Nothing too romantic, since you’re only friends, but nothing boring. 

“So, how’s it going?” Han asked, the music through the speakers covering his voice from Chan. 

“How’s what going?” you replied, finding an interesting barbeque restaurant. 

“You and, you know,” he nodded over to Chan at the desk, going over a line with Felix in the booth. 

“It’s fine.”

“Just ‘fine’?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I figured since you’ve been with us six months now,” he began, “I thought you guys might’ve finally stopped messing around and confronted your feelings for each other.”

“There are no ‘feelings’,” you said, though not very convincingly. “We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Friends who go on dates every other week and see each other all the time.”

“It’s not a ‘date’. We just like hanging out together.”

“Alone? In romantic settings?”

“They’re not romantic,” You thought about the seaside bar you’d both gone to a while back. It’d been so lovely, and it was open late. Also, it was not too far away, so you wouldn’t have trouble getting there. 

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t think lunch picnics under a tree by the river isn’t romantic?”

“It can be platonic. Not everything needs to be romantic.”

“That’s how things started between Minho-hyung and I,” he said, “And here we are: Dating for three years and living together now. Then again, we were made for each other, so it was going to work out anyway.”  He gave a sly smile, “If you and Chan don’t become a thing, you can be our third. I would love having more than Dom.”

“Pfft, I’m hardly Dom material,” you scoffed. 

“The way you railed Hyunjin and Jeongin says otherwise,” he snickered. “They say your dick is life-changing.”

You laughed recalling Hyunjin’s words, and said, “They’re exaggerating. I’m not some kind of sex god.”

“Who’s a sex god?” Minho walked into the room, confused by the last words he’d heard. 

“You,” Jisung grinned playfully, puckering his lips for Minho to kiss them. “I told YN-hyung that if he wanted he could be our third.”

“Aren’t all the members technically our third? And fourth? And fifth? And sixth and seventh?” he asked, amused as he gave Jisung a second kiss before taking the seat beside him on the couch. 

“Yeah, but YN-hyung would be special,” Han said with a wink at you. 

“I don’t know,” Minho said with jealous eyes, “I don’t think I can compete with the anaconda he’s got in his pants.”

“It’s not that big,” you defended once again, earning laughs from the couple. 

“I’d still like to ride it one day,” Han leaned closer to you, keeping his voice low under the music. “Jeongin said he’s only ever gotten pounded like that by Chan-hyung.” He put his hand on your thigh, “I want to get wrecked by you next.” 

“Jisung-ah, we’re in the studio,” Minho warned, looking at Felix in the booth and listening to his last lines. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” 

“You’ve been a tease this entire week,” he replied, holding Jisung by the chin. “Don’t make me put you on the horse again.”

“The horse?”

“It’s a sex machine I put him on when he’s misbehaved,” Minho shrugged casually. “I sit him there and edge him with it. I sometimes whip or spank him while he’s on it, but I usually don’t.” He pouted at Jisung, “And you don’t want me to put you on that again, do you? How many times did I edge you before not letting you cum at all?”

“Four.”

“If you keep pushing the no-studio-sex boundary,” he said, forehead pressed to Jisung’s, “I’ll make it six.” 

You saw Jisung gulp before Minho kissed him. “Maybe YN-yah can help me sometime,” he suggested, seeing you watch them. “He can be a Dom when he wants to be one.”

“I’m not a real Dom.” 

“No, you’re not, are you?” Minho asked, a flirty glint in his eyes. He glanced over to where Chan sat, then said loudly, “You’re a good boy who needs a daddy to take care of you.”

“YNie, you’re next,” Chan said, not acknowledging what Minho said. 

“Hyung,” Jisung called to Felix when he stepped out of the booth, “Is YN-hyung a Dom or a Sub?-”

“-Why is this important?-”

“-He strikes me as more of a Switch, honestly,” Felix said, pushing back hair from his face. “I like guys who can do both,” he winked at you. 

“-You said I’m next, hyung?” You stood up from your seat and went right to the booth. “Can we go line-by-line, if that’s okay?” 

“Sure,” Chan said, also wanting to move from the topic. 

You set the microphone to your height, and pushed the conversation away. You learned during your time with Stray Kids that Chan took the ‘no studio sex’ rule very seriously. He didn’t mind it in individual studios, but when it came to recording together, it was prohibited. He wanted everyone focused on recording well, not getting into each other’s pants. Of course, the members care about producing a good album as much as him, so they mostly flirted if anything. You also believed part of it was the possibility someone in the company not privy to the “secret” would walk in on it. You understood why, and followed it to avoid ending up on the receiving end of a Leader Scolding. You didn’t want Chan upset with you or believing you really couldn’t control yourself. 

Though, Han regularly tested this restraint. 

“-Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look,” you sang into the microphone gently, getting into the music playing in your headphones. 

“Go a bit deeper,” Chan said, his voice coming through when the music stopped. “It sounds too light.”

“Okay,” you nodded. The music started again, and you sang in a slightly deeper tone, “Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Chan praised, “Let’s do one more.” 

“Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.” 

“Okay, yes, let’s go with that one,” he declared, and you agreed. “Let’s give the next line a listen.”

“Okay,” you said. Han’s voice came through as the song started, and you looked at your notes as you sang right after, “We act the way we think, the way we feel.”

“Nice,” Chan said as you stopped. “Let’s keep that one and go again.” 

Chan’s praise always made you feel good. Since working with the group, you felt your skills had improved much more. Chan said you were always good, but you disagreed. You worked on your lines with Chan, with Han and Minho giving their opinions from time to time. It felt productive. It felt good being a part of something, truly part of it and not looking from the outside. You rarely recorded with the previous groups since you hardly had any lines in your own songs. So, being there with the members felt exciting each time. Also, yes, Chan being the one who praised you made you warm inside. 

“Great!” Chan said on the last line, “Really great.”

“Thanks,” you said with a small bow, smiling wide at the success and relieved to be done so quickly. 

You picked up your song notes, then walked out of the booth. Minho stood up from the couch, patting your back as he passed you into the booth next. Han sat on the couch on his phone. You guessed the couple had plans like you and Chan, and wanted to be done as soon as possible. You took Minho’s seat, sinking into the plush leather couch as Minho’s warm ups from the speakers. Usually, there’d be another producer present, but today appeared to be a special case. You took up your phone, starting to scroll for a new place to try when a message came in. 

“You’re such a good singer, hyung,” Han’s message read, the rapper curling up on the couch and leaning against you. 

Considering he texted it rather than say it out loud, something sensual was sure to follow. “Thanks. I try,” you texted back, heat in your cheeks. 

“Maybe being a good singer means your moans sound good too.” 

“How did I know you’d say something like that? Lol” you laughed to yourself, shaking your head. 

“Because I’ve been teasing you all week.” 

He wasn’t lying. Han Jisung had been teasing you all week. Ever since you returned from Milan, when everyone saw you with Hyunjin, you’d received more photos and videos than before. It started with small flirty glances and blushing smiles in the practice room. In the studio, he’d lay his head on your lap or find excuses to cuddle close to you so your bodies touched. During photo or video shoots, he’d make sure you saw glimpses of his petite, lean body as he dressed. In the car on your way to an important event, he’d sit beside you instead of Minho and touch your thigh. Never too brazen. Never too obvious. Despite his lust for you, Han managed to keep it under the radar better than other members. 

“Minho-hyung really doesn’t mind?” you texted back, giving a glance to the man in the recording booth. 

“Not when it’s the other members,” he said. “He’s the one who helped me take those pictures I sent you. Did you like them? 😉” 

“Of course,” you shuddered remembering the photos of Han tied up and gagged on his bed. He’d been sweaty, hickies on his neck, teary eyed with cum on his stomach. “You knew I would.” 

“You know you can do that to me whenever you like,” his free hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. 

“Chan-hyung is right there!” you replied, nodding over to Chan, who was too focused on helping Minho to notice. “Studio sex isn’t allowed. He’ll get super pissed.” 

“He’s busy,” he responded. “It’s not like I’m blowing you 😜” 

‘But you’d like to be, I’m sure 😜”

“Duh! Have you seen how much you cum? I want all of it.” 

You gulped when his hand went further up your thigh. “Every drop,” he added. “All of it in my mouth and down my throat.” 

You’d decided long ago that rappers had a great disadvantage in dirty talking. 

“Remember the last video I sent?” 

“How can I forget? You looked so pretty riding that tentacle toy and cumming all over yourself.”

“I was thinking about you using my throat like a toy, just fucking it however you want until you cum.”

“Jisung-ah.”

You withheld a gasp when his hand found your crotch. He stopped texting you, and focused on your soft cock. Your eyes glanced over to Chan and Minho, who still somehow had not noticed you two on the couch. A part of you knew Chan would be disappointed in you, but Han’s hand felt so warm and his fingers knew exactly where to go. Through your gray shorts, he put enough pressure so you felt his fingers on him. You gripped your phone tightly, seeing his hand slowly slide up and down your length. When his hand dipped to your balls, you shifted to rest them fully in his palm. Your eyes met Jisung’s, and he smirked mischievously, cheeks puffing slightly around his cheekbones. He knew what he was doing to you, and it drove you insane. 

“I know you two aren’t doing what I think you’re doing,” Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts. You two immediately pulled apart. “You know the rules,” he said, as he wrote down notes for the next verse. 

“We have no idea what you’re talking about, hyung,” Han said innocently, removing his hand from your lap. “YN-hyung and I are only talking about the new song.”

“If you two want to fuck so bad,” he said, “Go do it somewhere else.”

“What’s going on?” Minho asked from inside the booth. “Am I done?”

“Your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself in the studio,” Chan answered, pressing the speaker button to talk. 

“Hannie-yah,” Minho’s voice came laced with a warning, “You know better.”

“But, we’re both bored waiting on you two,” you said, trying to help Jisung out of trouble. “We weren’t going to go farther than touching, we swear.”

“Yeah, only until you guys finished for the day,” said Han. 

“You both know we have seven other members to record,” Chan said, “And Changbin hasn’t shown up yet and neither has anyone else. We’d have to play what we’ve done so far, and see if there are any changes to be made tomorrow. You both know that. I’ve told you more than once that studio sex isn’t allowed.”

“We can go to my studio then,” Han said to you, brown eyes heavy with lust. “There’s no stupid sex rule there.”

“It’s not a stupid rule. We would get almost nothing done when all of you are so fucking horny all the time,” Chan said, sounding agitated. 

“Hyung, don’t be so tough on them,” Minho said. “Jisung hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, so he’s all needy and stuff. YNie would be doing me a favor,” he then chuckled. “I think that whole alpha-omega thing is real, because he’s like a dog in heat sometimes.”

“Am not!” argued Jisung. 

“So, I shouldn’t tell everyone here how I woke up to you humping my leg?” 

You stifled a giggle. “I wasn’t humping your leg,” Han said, arms crossed, “I was just snuggling and got hard.” 

“Tell that to my pants,” Minho snorted. 

“As much as I’d love to watch you two go at it like rabbits,” Chan interrupted the conversation, “It’s work time.” 

You and Han shared a glance, then you both stood from the couch. Han walked into the recording booth where he cornered Minho, while you walked over to Chan. 

“You can always take a break,” you suggested, your lingering arousal stirring in you. “You work so much, hyung. You deserve a long, relaxing break.”

Chan snickered, clicking around on the screen to replay Minho’s recording. “Tempting, but not today, YNie. You’ll have to settle for another one of our bottoms again.” 

“But, hyung,” you slid your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of him through his black shirt, “I haven’t been topped in a long time.” His shoulders flexed against your rolling thumbs, and you worked out the small knots you found. You bent down to his ear, “Please? Just this one time?” You started towards his neck, then to his back. The low groan he gave sent shivers to the arousal inside you. “Minho can have Jisung, and you could have me. I’ve been dying to be pounded by you.”

Chan then turned his chair around, and pulled you to him by the waist. He remained dangerously close to your crotch, looking up at you from your hips. You hoped he might at least kiss you. With how his eyes scanned over your face to your lips, and back to your eyes, you thought he might finally do it. He brought you closer, inches away from him before he said:

“I said not today, YN-yah,” he said, gently. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“A virtue I’m slowly losing my grip on,” you replied, bending down to his level. “I’ll get you someday, Leader-nim.” 

Chan stuck his tongue into his cheek to repress a smile at the name. “Sooner than you think if you keep calling me that,” he said, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’d love to hear you moan it for me.”

“Oh, Leader-nim,” you said, faking one for him. “Leader-nim, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” you put your lips to his ear, “Leader, make me yours. Pound my ass until I can’t walk straight. Use my throat like a fleshlight and make me choke on your huge cock.”

He bit his tongue as you teased him. “Damn,” he sighed, “It’s a shame I’m working right now. I’d love to do to you what you’ve been doing to all the bottoms around here.”

He turned his chair around, and you grunted with your arms crossed. You turned to see Han receiving the same gentle rejection, a kiss promising more much later. He came back to you, sliding his arms around your middle. “Looks like we’ll have to settle for each other,” he pouted, head on your shoulder. “Since our boyfriends have no interest in fucking us themselves.”

“I’m recording, Jisung!”

“He used to love me,” he continued as if he didn’t hear Minho, playfulness in his tone. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I’ll put you on the horse, I swear. Keep it up.” 

“I don’t mind taking his place,” you said, turning in his arms and embracing him. Your hands went down his back to cup his ass, “I think I’d like waking up to you leaking all over my leg.” 

“I’m right here, you know,” Minho said as Chan laughed. 

“You can wake up to all kinds of things with me,” Han said, tracing your Adam's apple to the base of your throat. “A good fuck is a great way to start your morning,” he leaned closer to you, nose gently nuzzling yours. “And with a dick like yours just inches away from me?” he reached down to your bulge again, smiling when you gasped, “I don’t think I’d be able to control myself around you.”

“You already can’t now,” you laughed, tracing his jawline to his lips. “You jumped on me the second you got up close to me.”

“I really was trying to hold back. It’s just…I was rewatching Hyunjin’s video and I couldn't stop picturing you doing all of that to me too,” he said. “I had no idea you could do that.” His hand traced the outline of your dick through your pants, shifting when you began massaging his ass. 

“You two are such sluts,” Chan laughed. “Go to Han’s studio and do that there. This is work time.” 

“Would you like us to film it for you, hyung?” you asked, holding Jisung close and both of you looking at him. “We can watch it together later.”

He hesitated, paused over his work before saying, “If it comes to mind…”

You and Jisung giggled before leaving the studio. The exhilaration built back up following Han down the hallway to his personal studio. Your eyes raked up and down his body. He wore a longer shirt that hid his petite waist and lean figure from you. His pants were a big baggier, so you knew they’d be easier to slip off. The suppression you’d kept on yourself slowly unwound before you reached Han’s studio; it threatened to break through and pounce on him once you passed the threshold into quietness. 

“You have no idea,” Han brought you to him by the hand, a familiar lustful glint in his eyes, “How long I’ve been wanting this.”

“I think I have some idea,” you replied, hands sliding around his waist to his ass. You suddenly hated his pants and wanted them off. The thick material kept you from feeling the perky cheeks underneath. “The stuff you send me is a clear indication of that in my opinion,” you chuckled. 

“That’s only a fraction of it,” he said, leaning closer. “Trust me.”

He pressed his hands to your torso, their touch soft against your muscles and slid upwards. You cupped his cheek and brought him in for a kiss. It started with light smacks of your lips, the occasional flick of the bottom before being caught in between both. The teasing brushes of his tongue ignited something in you; your hands went down to his backside again, trying to feel for the curves you’d seen bouncing on toys for days now. His own hands went up your abdomen, tracing small patterns before reaching your chest. The brief touch of his cotton shirt to your bare stomach sparked you. Your kiss getting deeper, your hunger for him became more obvious. The strain in your shorts grew and pressed into the fabric, a small bump starting to form again. When you brought him closer, Jisung’s bulge pushed against yours and you both moaned. You held him more securely once his hips started grinding on you.

“Come here, baby.”

You sat down on the sofa nearby and he straddled your lap right away. Your hands on his thighs, you growled at the obstacle his pants became. Jisung, arms around your neck, brought you back in for another kiss as he continued rocking his hips. You caressed his thighs up and down, the tension in them flexing underneath the denim material. His cock pushing into yours, the heavy material weighing on your thin one, you couldn’t help humping him back. The faint scent of cologne stayed on his skin, becoming more obvious when you kissed down his neck. His body, lithe and slender, fit perfectly in your arms and responded to your touches right away. Minho was a lucky man. You’d be spent too if you had Jisung in your bed all the time. 

His grinding became more hurried when you reached underneath his shirt to the hardening nipples. You groaned listening to him whine at a particularly hard pinch, not out of pain but pleasure. When he bunched his jeans up to tighten around his groin, his bulge instantly became more apparent on his thigh. Thankfully, once you unbuckled and unzipped him, your hands fit perfectly inside.

“Hyung…” he breathed once your hands grabbed his ass over his boxers. You squeezed and pulled them apart to push some fabric between the two cheeks. The thin, smooth material made it easier to feel his tight hole. “Oh god…”

“Keep grinding,” you said, guiding him along your length.

He continued kissing you, tugging on your lower lip with a soft lick right afterwards. He pushed his narrow hips to yours in slow circles, the movement keeping you both together longer. His soft moans joined yours, the two of you unable to stop once you started. Someone could walk in right then, and you’d keep going. His body became addicting. The hardness of his body in your arms tempted you into feeling more than his ass. All the restraint you carried rushed through floodgates, and you wanted nothing more than to bend Han over the sofa arm, pants at his knees. The air shifted when you rolled Han into his back, and started sliding off his pants and shoes with them. Desire burned in his innocent eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his growing erection.

“No, no,” you said, gently pushing his hand away, “That’s my job.”

You rested between his thighs, laying on top of him as you went back to grinding. Hands above his head, Han surrendered himself over to you. You kissed up his body from hips to chest as you lifted his shirt to just above his nipples. His body twitched at the pleasure you were giving him; he couldn’t stop gyrating his hips to your throbbing cock. The constant friction between the two of you drove you wild. Every so often, you reached between you to rub him with your hand which made him squirm. He felt so good. You couldn’t get enough of him. You never could get enough of any of them. No matter which member you had, you always found yourself craving more and more. Han’s angelic moans, high and needy, became a song you could never forget. His hard nipples in your mouth became a focus point to his pleasure; you couldn’t stop yourself from nibbling and sucking them. You groaned into the wrinkled skin, your dick jerking in your shorts and boxers. When you knelt up, you held your boner down to keep grinding on the outline pressing into Jisung’s boxers.

“You look so pretty like this,” you groaned, taking in his long body lying beneath you. Arms still above his head, he’d crossed his wrists as if tied together and gripped the cushion at the end. “All needy and horny,” you slid yourself up and down his length before giving his tip a gentle rub. “I jerked off to those videos of you tied up and toys inside you so many times. I kept picturing it being me making you cum like that.”

“Me too,” he whined. “Too bad I don’t keep any here,” he grinned through another moan, “Then you could use it on me as much as you want.”

“But, my dick is just as good,” you said, trembling somewhat as you dragged your balls over his cock and back down. The smooth motion stirred the pot between you. A small black spot showed where his tip was, and that’s what you focused on. “Don’t you think so?”

“Hyung…”

“Yes?”

“Let me suck your dick, please,” he begged through a quiet voice. “I want you in my mouth…in my throat. I’ve been-been dying to suck you dry. Please…”

The mere act of him begging to blow you had you tugging your pants down. Excitement lit inside Han’s eyes as he positioned himself on the floor in front of you. The sight of him below, round brown eyes gazing up at you pleadingly and lips already parting, could not have been a prettier sight. He pulled your pants down to your ankles, running his hands up your thighs to the center of your boxers. Your thighs clenched at the light fingers grazing your inner sides, and you sighed when they slipped under the leg holes. Jisung pressed his lips right to your cock, brushing over the fabric and nuzzling the hardened shaft. Shaky breaths escaped you every time he reached the sensitive side of your tip and hum softly around it. His fingers continued massaging you, thumbs pressing to the perineum and your balls every so often. When he heard you moan particularly loud at this, he kept on doing it. He kissed down to them for a moment, giving a soft moan before coming back up. You gripped the cushion underneath you as you watched the younger member fondle and worship your dick. Once he found a wet pot, Jisung flicked his tongue over it. 

Then, he carefully pulled down the front of your underwear. You whined at the fabric sliding against your cock, springing it upwards towards Jisung’s face. The longing became clear on his face, but he didn’t dare put you in his mouth yet. Tongue poking out over his bottom lip, soft breaths ghosted over your tip as he began rubbing you in his hand. His smooth fingers grazed over the squishy head in each stroke, creating more tightness in your belly, and your body was on fire. The fact he kept himself positioned just under you, staring at your dick as he worked you, had you reeling for more. 

“Your dick is perfect,” he said, swallowing the saliva building in his mouth. “It’s big where it counts.”

“It’s not…not like that.”

“It is to me,” he replied with a laugh, smiling when you shuddered at a soft kiss. “It’s perfect for sucking just like Minho and Chan’s cocks.”

One hand holding the base, he used the other to languidly stroke you. You wriggled in your seat at the firm squeeze he gave both ends, and dug your nails further into the sofa. It was over when he started whirling the tip of his tongue on the tip’s edge in time with his strokes.

“You like that?” he teased, continuing to do it a bit faster.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you said between gritted teeth, the pleasure tight in your groin. “Keep going like that…There’s a good boy.”

Being called a ‘good boy’ struck a chord in Jisung and he slid you over his outstretched tongue. It went in so easily. You groaned at the light sensation of his tongue on the sensitive skin, rubbing the veins and thick head. Once he latched his mouth to your shaft, the both of you moaned together. You slipped a hand into his hair, dyed a grayish white and much longer, and simply held it as he went further. He held onto your thighs as his face planted into your lap, nose brushing your pubic bone and chin right underneath your dick. The pressure from his throat and his hollow cheeks tempted you into going further. You could sit there enjoying his mouth forever. The obscene slurping he did when he pulled you from his throat couldn’t have sounded better. He did not even withdraw completely. He kept you in his mouth despite the drool coming from the sides of his mouth. Whenever he did, he still kept the very tip in his mouth to spit over before going back down. Soft cries hummed around it, muffled by your thickness as you continued gradually sliding in and out of his mouth. He didn’t protest when you fastened your grip on his hair and held him in place. Your hips pushed upwards into his face, reaching his throat each time.

"Look up at me,” you said, angling him further down to see him teary eyed and messy. You took yourself out to tap your wet cock on his cheeks and mouth, the other not hesitating to lick at you whenever you hit him. “Greedy,” you smiled, pushing into his mouth.

He brought your thighs onto his shoulders and angled himself further downwards. You locked your legs behind his back and started using them to bring him closer. Unable to get out of your grasp, Jisung could only kneel there and take your cock in his mouth. His sucking lips became a toy to use. Tears filled the corners of his eyes each time you forced him to the hilt, holding him there several seconds as he choked and sputtered around you. Like before, you barely let him off you. You gave him a minute to breathe before pushing him back in with your legs, locking him in place with your thighs.

“You love this, don’t you?” you asked in heavy breaths, hand curling in his soft hair. You chuckled softly when he nodded in confirmation, sucking you even harder as an answer. “Good to know I have a good place to dump all my cum,” you shoved your dick fully to his throat again, “Because that’s just what you are, huh? A mindless cum dump for everyone to use, right?” He moaned again in agreement, shaking his head with you in his mouth and vibrating it with another moan. “I’d pump my load in your throat every night if I could.”

“Please…” he said, voice muffled by the inch he breathed again, lips connected by several strings of fluids. “Use my mouth whenever you want.”

“Does that go for your tight ass too?” you asked, smacking his face with your wet cock again. “Seeing you put all those dildos in your ass makes it so tempting.”

“Yes,” he said before letting you push back into his mouth. “Fuck my ass,” he muttered as you started fucking his mouth again. “Please, fuck my ass. I want you deep in me.”��

“Bend over the couch then,” you said, “And show me that pretty hole of yours.”

Getting onto the couch, Jisung yanked down his pants and boxers to his knees like you’d imagined. He arched his back and spread his cheeks apart, his hole clenching for something to grab. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when your tongue slid over it. Small licks around the entrance caused small whimpers and grinding into your face. You gave each cheeks a sharp smack and a hard squeeze as you rolled your tongue further and flicked it around. His entrance lubed, you wasted no time in sliding one finger inside, moaning at the walls swallowing you and the back starting to arch to meet it. You kept him still with one hand while your finger gently worked him open. Adding a second, you scissored the hole as you plunged knuckle deep. Jisung shook and held onto the sofa arm, face buried in the plush suede.

“Your dick…” Jisung said through a strained whine. “Please, hyung, can I have your dick now?”

“But, this is so much fun,” you sneered, adding a third finger that made him writhe. “Your hole is so tight and I love seeing how you react when I go deep like this,” you emphasized it by pushing all three fingers to his core and watching him moan into the arm. “I’ve grown to love teasing all our pretty bottoms,” you continued fingering him, pulling out to put your fingers in sideways and palm facing downwards. “You each sound so sweet when you’re under me.”

“That’s because you’re amazing,” he said with a breathy laugh, meeting your hand halfway. “I want you to ruin me like you did with Hyunjin and Innie.”

“Oh yeah?” You finally removed your fingers, leaving Han empty and wanting for a few seconds, “You want me to fuck you stupid too?”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, if that’s what little Hannie wants,” you kissed the edge of his ear, “Then hyung should be nice and give it to you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, feeling your tip resting on him.

You chuckled at his eagerness, loving the effect you appeared to be having on him. Chan would probably advise caution by now, since you could be discovered any second. But, how could you care about that when Han’s ass hugged you so tightly? The bumpy walls milked you in every stroke, and it became harder to maintain control over yourself. Having him massaging your length, his high-pitched moans mingling with the sounds of skin slapping skin, made your mouth water. You forced yourself to focus on Jisung: running your hands up and down his back, grabbing his hair to pull his head back or smacking his tight ass in hard slaps. The small bits of pain seemed to make Jisung moan louder, and become more desperate. So, you dragged your nails on his skin, not too hard but enough for him to feel it; you spanked his ass until it was a light pink color.

Jisung became more desperate when you pulled him to your chest and reached around his waist. He really was hard. You could barely squeeze it at times, working it with only your index and thumb. Jisung became a moaning, mindless mess as you pleasured him. Every time your hand reached the base, your dick went fully inside him. This drove the already sensitive Jisung even further into bliss. Precum spilled from the tip, and you used it to lube him up. The slick sounds matched your snapping hips, working alongside the moans escaping both of you.

“Minho-hyung is so lucky,” you said in his ear, jerking and fucking him harder. “Getting to-to fuck you like this every day.”

“You-You can too!”

“Oh yeah? I can?”

“Yes, yes! However you want! Wherever!”

You put this to the test. After a bit of time on the couch, you manhandled him onto the floor where you ripped off his pants and lifted his legs into the air. Han clawed at the floor, at the bottom of the couch and his chair nearby as overwhelming pleasure took over. Sensing his orgasm, you didn’t deny it from him. You pumped his dripping cock as you kept going, watching in awe as he quivered and whined in his climax. Thick, hot droplets leaked from the head, mixing together as you continued stroking him, and went over your fingers. He used the end of his shirt to muffle the loud, suffocating cries your cock produced. As he settled down, chest rising and falling in every breath, you didn’t stop. Like with Hyunjin, a hard orgasm was of no significance. You’d finish when you both felt like it.

“Fuck me here, hyung!”

“Fuck me over there, hyung, please!”

Anyone who watched might wonder who’d ended up in charge. Han pointed wearily to places in his studio where he wanted you to bend him over: his desk, his chair, the other side of the couch, and even over his producing equipment. You couldn’t say no. He’d become as equally addicting as Hyunjin. By the time you both finished over the record deck, he was pumping out smoke. Watching him wearily bounce onto your hips, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“Get down there,” you ordered quickly, starting to jerk yourself quickly, “Get the fuck down there and open that mouth.” 

The sight of his mouth open, tongue sticking out close to your thick head, finally brought you over the edge. It hit you hard, making every nerve in you vibrate and stiffen as it pushed through you. Everything felt hot, your breath being constricted from the blast. Your cum shot right into his mouth, coating his tongue and splattering his mouth when you missed. Whenever he thought he’d miss a drop, Jisung licked the line leading to the hole and sucked it out for you. Your dick suddenly became sensitive to his hand and mouth, and your body became weak from the exertion. Jisung continued licking you from top to bottom, sucking whatever beads remained until he was sure he’d gotten it all. 

“That was amazing,” he breathed, finally laying down on your chest on the couch. Your body felt like jelly. You might’ve just gone through a super deep tissue massage, making you light headed and floating. “So much better than I thought it’d be.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, catching your breath. “I didn’t think I could-could do that again.”

“I didn’t think I could either,” he replied, snuggling close to you. He reached around for tissues he kept underneath the couch for emergencies, and you started cleaning each other off. “I’ve only ever done this with Minho.” 

“You two must have something really special then.”

You saw him smile fondly at the thought. “We do,” he said. “He keeps me grounded when I start floating away. I never feel anxious or worried around him. He makes me happy.” 

“That’s good.”

“Like how Chan makes you happy.”

Not this again. “What Chan and I have is the same as everyone else.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, “Tell that to the shadow at the door.”

“Huh?”

You could just barely see him, but instinct told you it was Chan. By the profile and muscled chest sticking out slightly, you recognized him. If you didn’t feel so drained, you’d go to him. He’s likely rock hard, if not already spent from listening at the door. But, you felt too content with Jisung in your arms to do anything about it. He’ll likely text you about it later, or bring it up the next time you’re alone. 

“He really likes you,” Han said, pulling up his boxers. “I can tell from how he looks at you.”

“He looks at all of us that way.”

“No, with you it’s more flirty and loving than fond,” he came back and cuddled against your chest, wrapped in your legs. “Minho looks at me that way sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking. He’ll be watching me doing something, and when I look up, he turns his head. Chan does that with you.”

“It’s just sex, that’s all. We’re just horny for each other.”

No, it wasn’t that. It was far from that. Bahng Christoper Chan made you more seen than anyone else. He never left you behind or made you feel insignificant. When you were together, your connection flowed so freely and easily. It wasn’t awkward with him. Yes, your sexual tension will eventually boil over, but you hoped it was more than that for him. 

“Keep telling yourself that, cutie,” Jisung said, kissing your cheek softly. “Ugh, I’m starving now.” He grabbed his phone, “I’m going to see if they’ll bring us something. You know, to repair the emotional damage they caused with their rejection.”

“Of course. It’s only right.” 

Right when Jisung called Chan, a phone rang from behind the door. Then, the shadow disappeared. 

****

A/N: Ooof, YN is just blowing through these men, isnt he?? haha get it?? sorry...Please reblog and like!

[jareaul0ver]

nika fic where nika is being hella clingy with reader while they’re trying to get ready to go out with the team and they end up having a quickie before leaving. when they finally show up to the event all disheveled paige or kk notice the hickeys and reader gets all flustered n stuff

Lunch

wc: 1.2k warnings: nsfw, fingering, brief nipple play, quickie, nika fucking reader in the mirror, hickeys, language, teasing from friends pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

You pulled together your outfit with the small details. You slid a few rings onto your fingers, bracelets onto your wrists, and clasped a necklace Nika had given you around your neck.

It was always "tradition" to celebrate a win with your girls. You'd find a bar or a club and go out, get absolutely shit faced, and wake up the next morning hungover, all to have to go to practice.

Did you have some regrets most of the time? Yes, of course, but you wouldn't let that stop you from spending time with the people that meant the most to you in your life.

You couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You were never the most cocky or confident type, but tonight you knew you looked good.

A few clicks of your phone camera later, you watched Nika approach you from behind. She slinked her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder.

"Hi, baby." She mumbled. You watched her eyes take in your figure through the mirror, and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "You look.. so good."

A light blush colored your face. You would never get used to the endless complements from Nika, no matter how long you'd be together.

Your hands rested over hers. "Thanks, babe." You looked over at her and kissed her cheek. You made sure to snap another picture, capturing the sweet moment with your girlfriend.

She hummed in response and moved her hands to rest on your hips. Nika pressed a light kiss to your neck. "Really, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands to myself tonight."

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. "Well, it'll have to wait until we get back, we don't wanna be late." You went to pull away from her but her grip on you was strong. "Baby, seriously we-"

She gently bit down on your shoulder, quickly soothing it with her tongue. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action. "I think we still have a few minutes before we have to leave, no?" She kissed up your shoulder and neck, her lips landing on your jawline.

A shiver ran through your body and you mindlessly melted against her. She always knew how to get you going, even in the most inopportune times.

"But-" you sighed when you felt her hand unbutton your jeans. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, and she silently asked for permission. If you really didn't want this right now, she would never make you do it, even if you looked like a work of art to her.

With the odds in her favor, you nodded slightly with parted lips. She quickly unzipped your pants and slipped her hand past the waistband of both your jeans and panties.

She groaned softly in your ear as she slid her fingers through your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already? Haven't even done anything yet." Her middle and ring fingers found your clit and she rubbed small circles on it.

Your head fell back to lean against her shoulder, but you kept your eyes on hers in the mirror. She refused to look away, and so did you.

The two of you have had incredibly hot sex before. Ranging anywhere from rough after suffering a loss of a game, to gentle if one of you needed relaxing, and sure you've had incredibly sensual and intimate moments together, but this was on a whole other level.

Without warning she slipped her fingers into you and you whined. "Fuck." She slowly pumped her digits in and out of your soaked cunt. She latched her lips onto your neck and sucked hard for a second.

Her lips came away and a string of saliva left them connected to your skin for a second. "So pretty like this, baby. You think you look pretty? Hm?"

You nodded a little frantically as she quickened her pace. "Mhm. I- I look pretty- fuck!" She curled her fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Nika's other hand slinked up your shirt and a small smirk formed on her face. "No bra?" She pinched a nipple between her fingers and your body arched away from her.

You screwed your eyes shut, and immediately felt her stop her movements. Your eyes shot open, but before you could speak, she did. "Eyes on me and I'll make you cum, pretty."

Your lips parted and you took a deep breath. "Okay. Please, Nika, I need you."

She couldn't resist. Not when you sounded so desperate for her touch. She started curling her fingers in you quickly and hard. Her hand cupped your breast and she leaned back down, biting your shoulder.

"Feel good?" She mumbled before attaching her lips to your skin again.

"Mm, 's good, Nika." Your entire body weight was practically on her at this point. Your knees were weak, and you quickly felt the bubble in your stomach building up.

Her hand dropped to your stomach, and she lightly pressed down on it, letting you feel the goodness of her fingers inside of you even easier.

You moaned loudly and Nika responded with a huff. She quickened the pace of her fingers and you felt yourself getting incredibly close to finishing.

"Fuck, baby, I'm getting close- oh!" She dropped her hand even further and slipped it beneath her other to rub circles against your clit.

She sucked harshly on your neck and shoulder, littering them with small bites and hickeys you undeniably knew you'd get in trouble for.

That was the last of your worries though, as your body arched away from hers, the band finally snapping in your stomach. "Fuck!" You cried and screwed your eyes shut as you rode out your climax.

She slowed her pace before eventually pulling her fingers out of you, soaked with your juices. Nika brought them up to your mouth and you willingly cleaned her off.

"You did so good, babe." She mumbled as she pressed gentle kisses against your skin.

Everyone obviously knew that you and Nika had gotten up to some activities before you came. The crazed amount of marks and the fucked out look on your face easily gave it away.

Most of the team respected the two of you enough to not say anything, except for Paige. She never knew how to keep her mouth shut.

"Yo, you look like a vacuum cleaner got stuck to you." She raised her eyebrows at you, and then Nika who was standing behind you, in the same position that she had fucked you in before leaving.

Your face immediately turned red and a few of your teammates snickered at Paige's comment. "Shut your damn mouth, Bueckers."

Nika kissed your cheek softly before looking at Paige. "At least she's getting some, P, can't say the same about you." She clapped back.

A few "ooh's" came from the close knit circle of friends and Paige sulked away to the bar to get another drink.

You turned and captured Nika's lips in a quick kiss. "Mm, I love you, baby, but God you make me look like I'm a pornstar for a living sometimes."

She laughed softly. "Told you I wouldn't be able to help myself."

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you always end up under me. you know how it goes, don’t be crazy, don’t play dumb with me.

04, CHAPTER FOUR. ONE IN THE SAME / BLAME GAME.

ju speaks. let me finish out my sparks dreams with this fic… hopefully this cures our full on dallas crash outs cause i worked my ahhh off to finish it today. also paige’s view is so much more fun to write lol. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content (filth but war is over).

present day, may 2025.

i knew she didn’t deserve it. i was biting back words i should’ve just swallowed, and she didn’t even flinch. i almost wish she had. instead, she just looked at me, the disappointment clear as day, like she expected no less of me. no type of change. i knew it the second the words left my mouth—i wanted to pull her back, hold onto her and say whatever she needed to hear. it’s always like that. but it was too late. she left, and now it feels like i’m walking a tightrope again, waiting for the next time she’ll decide to speak to me.

that’s probably why, when i see her walk into this bar tonight, i’m done listening to whatever rickea and cam are rambling on about. it doesn’t matter that i’m here with them, celebrating a win. it doesn’t matter that maya’s been trying to make a place for herself in my life, or that i should be trying to figure out if that’s what i want. because the second nai steps in, it’s like she’s the only person here, and we’re right back where we started.

i’m nursing a shirley temple, pretending it’s something stronger, while rickea and cam talk about the game, looking like they’re about to float right off the barstools. i try not to, but i notice the way nai shakes her head, shoots one of those tight little smiles our way, like she’s already clocked the situation—cam, halfway to tipsy and clearly not ready to leave. she sighs, sliding next to her, which inconveniently places her way too far from me. two seats, really. still too far.

kea greets nai happily, and i force myself to acknowledge her with a raise of my eyebrows. cam pulls her into the conversation all effortlessly, and i think this is the most bubbly i’ve seen the blonde. “nai! you should’ve been here sooner. you saw that blowout, right?” she exclaims, her voice a little too loud.

nai humors her with a smile, but i can tell it’s half-hearted. she’s tired, probably came just to pick cam up and call it a night. i’m sure she’d be getting comfortable if it weren’t for me though.

“aw,” she pouts. “they put up a good fight. you ready to—“ i’m wrapping my lips around a cherry when the bartender comes around to nai, grabbing her attention from her main priority. she slides a napkin in front of her, all thirty two teeth on display, looking her in the eye like she’d fuck her. or worse, she already has.

“oh, i’m not drinking tonight,” i hear her say politely, and i almost break my neck to catch a glimpse of the interaction. it’s stupid. believe me, i know, but i can’t stop.

“cutting back? let me just get you a water then,” she chirps, and i try to make sense of the treatment she’s getting. friends? i don’t care. i know all of nai’s friends. i see the bartender’s eyes flicker to me just for a moment, like she’s measuring the situation despite there being two other people here with us. between us. i look down to her name tag. ana. then, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s rounding the same corner she came from.

i follow her figure as she leaves, and cam is the first to say something. “man, this feels just like ‘girlfriend of the week’ all over again.” she laughs, reaching for her half-empty vodka cranberry. the second one she’s had tonight. how many shots were in that thing? nai immediately pushes the glass away from her, and her face tightens just a bit, enough for me to catch it.

girlfriend of the week.

i raise my eyebrows, taking my sweet time as i lean back, swirling the straw around in my shirley temple. nai’s sitting back in her chair too, giving me the perfect opportunity to look straight at her. “girl of the week, huh? sounds like you got a whole rotation set up, nai,” i say, just vague enough to leave room for deniability.

she narrows her eyes at me as she adjusts her posture up off the seat, and i change my position too. “yeah,” cam pipes up, giggling like a school girl, “not that it’s any of your business though, paige,” she jokes, pointing an accusing finger at me. i suppose even through blatant confessions she’s still gotta protect her friend. “i mean, what’s it been, a month?“

rickea, sitting beside me, cringes and looks over, her eyes wide with something like regret. she mouths a quiet “sorry,” tilting her head toward cam like he’s apologizing for her, like she knew this was coming before she even opened her mouth. i squint back at her, barely nodding. i don’t want rickea’s silent apologies, i want an explanation.

nai’s lips press into a thin line, and i can see her fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter. she’s holding herself back, probably biting her tongue. it’s almost impressive, but i can’t resist pushing it just a little further.

“well, don’t leave us hanging, cam,” i urge, resting my chin in my hand, eyes glinting. “elaborate.”

cam’s head whips toward me, then back to nai, who’s gone from tense to downright glacial, her eyes shooting daggers at me like i’ve hit a nerve. cam laughs nervously. “oh, i really shouldn’t,” she says, giving a small, forced chuckle that’s more about backing away from the topic than anything else.

i open my mouth, but rickea seizes the moment, standing up and pulling cam off the stool with her. “come on, you’re due for a refill. let’s go check out the line, huh?” she says quickly, steering her toward the bathroom with a not-so-subtle look back at me, like she’s trying to pull them both out of the blast radius. cam stumbles along, protesting with a, “there’s no—“ that i catch before she’s far enough that i can’t hear her slurred words.

i shift, turning fully toward nailea. my elbows rest heavy on the bar, my hands clasped in front of me like i’m calm, but we both know better. she looks ready to up and leave. “so, what’s good? who is she?”

nai’s brows furrow, and she looks at me like i’ve lost it. “what are you talking about?” she asks, her tone clipped, like i’m wasting her time.

“you heard me,” i press, my eyes locked on her. “ana or whoever the hell else—how many it been? ‘cause you clearly left some stuff out.”

she glares at me a second longer before turning her head away, like she’s done with this conversation before it even started. “you don’t get to ask me that, paige.” i can tell she’s trying not to give me any more than that, but it’d never work.

i tilt my head, pushing myself to the edge of the seat, letting the words roll off. “nah, i think i do,” i say, keeping my voice low, licking my lips. “you can’t give me hell ‘bout maya and then act like i’m outta pocket for asking this. how many, lea?”

she whips her head to me, finally, eyes all annoyed and fiery. it’s clear i’m treading thin ice with her, and i’m completely oblivious to the breaking point. “you don’t want to know,” she argues. “and even if you did, it wouldn’t change a thing. we’re not together. remember?” she reminds with this petty ass shrug, and it makes me wanna—

the bartender, ana, strolls back over then, her timing so bad it feels intentional. she sets the water nai had clearly ordered out of politeness with this heedless smile, as if she can’t read a room. i sit back, biting back whatever i want to throw out next, letting the silence speak for itself.

nai thanks her, avoids eye contact, and she glances between the two of us like she’s trying to figure out the vibe, and i know she feels it, but she doesn’t take the hint. of course not.

“yo,” i say, tilting my head up in her direction, and maybe i shouldn’t have said anything at all. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” i gesture between nai and i, and she scrunches her face up, probably at the mention of ‘we.’

ana blinks, her smile faltering, but instead of backing off, she has the nerve to look at nai, like she’s trying to gauge if she needs saving or some shit. “you okay?” she asks, her voice all soft, like i’m not sitting right here.

the audacity.

“she good, bro,” i cut in before nai can even think about answering for herself, my words quick and clipped. i throw in a tight smile for effect, but it’s not doing much to hide the clear attitude i’d just given her. “appreciate the concern, though.”

ana’s face shifts, her smile completely gone now, and she stares at me for a beat too long before nodding awkwardly, fingernails tapping against the counter. “alright, uh, just let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, finally walking away.

i don’t feel any better watching her leave. i clench my jaw, that sharp burn in my chest flaring up again. nai’s silence digs into me. why isn’t she saying anything? yelling that it isn’t my place?

i glance over at her. she’s not looking at me. not even at the glass of water sitting untouched in front of her, and then she moves. quiet and deliberate, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as a glance in my direction. i furrow my eyebrows in confusion. she’s leaving? she’s leaving.

“nai.” my voice is low but filled with enough stern to catch her as she turns toward the exit. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me anything.

i shouldn’t follow her. i know i shouldn’t. i should’ve just left it at that. but theres several parts of me that can’t leave her alone no matter how hard i try to respect her wishes. it’s a continuous thing. a bad habit, really.

but the second she pushes through the door, i’m up. the chair scrapes loudly against the floor as i shove it back. i drop a twenty next to my drink, and before i can think better of it, i’m heading after her.

the air outside feels no less suffocating than it did in the bar, warm and sticky like its clinging to my skin. nai’s halfway across the lot already, her pace quick and determined as she beelines for her car. my legs are much faster than hers though. her keys are clutched tightly in her hand, the sound of the fob unlocking her door breaking through the quiet.

“nai,” i call, my voice on the rise as i stride toward her. she doesn’t stop.

“nai!” i know her well enough to see it—the way her shoulders stiffen, the slight hesitation in her stride. she hears me. she just doesn’t want to. it says everything: leave me the fuck alone, paige. i can even hear her voice say it in my head.

but i’m not gonna listen. obviously.

“i wasn’t done talking to you,“ i say, the frustration etched across my entire face.

she stops and exhales sharply, jaw tightening as she drops her keys to dangle loosely from her fingers. her other hand is gripping the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. she’s quiet, just angling her body toward the car like she’s going to keep pretending i’m not here.

not happening.

“aight.” i nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “the hard way?” it’s less of a question, more of ‘i know how this is about to go.’ i shift, stepping in front of her car door, my lanyard swaying out of the pocket of my sweatpants with the motion.

she glares up at me, and her head tilts just slightly, like she can’t believe i’m doing this. again. “get out the way,” she says flatly, though she knows those four words won’t do much to get me to do what she wants.

i’m not letting it go this time. “can you stop tryna’ leave when things get tough? you love walkin’ out on me instead of talk—“

“i left because i don’t want to do this again! i’m done trying to figure you out, and i’m done listening to you lie to me, paige,” she yells, and i swallow down the stern cut-off i planned to give her. “i can’t trust you.” she emphasizes every word, and i know there’s no quick fix, no easy answer. she’s right. i’ve given her every reason not to trust me.

i wish i could take it all back—the lies, the bullshit, the nights i wasn’t what she needed. but i can’t. and now i don’t know what to do, what to say, to make her believe that i wouldn’t do it again if i was given another shot.

“i know i messed up,” I finally say. it’s not the defense i’m used to putting up, not the sharp rebuttal i usually throw out. but i can’t fight her on it, it’ll only make her put both feet out the door.

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you can’t even fucking help it either.” she isn’t holding back. “you’re stubborn, you think shit is a game half the time, you don’t ever follow through…”

she’s rambling now, telling me how much of a piece of shit i am. she’s doing it so effortlessly, like she’s been rehearsing this in her head for months, years maybe, and somehow, someway, it doesn’t effect me when i hear her say it. not in the way it should.

i already know these things. i’ve heard it all before—hell, i’ve told myself most of it. but hearing it from her? the way she’s spilling it all out in dim light of this parking lot like she’s trying to exorcise me from her life for good? it should for the least bit sting. should make me feel guilty. but all i can think about is how good she looks when she’s angry, how her eyes flash and her chest rises and falls.

how she’s putting all her energy into this argument because she cares.

i run a hand down my ponytail, exhaling through my nose. “you done?” i interrupt.

she lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, her hair falling into her face before she pushes it back with a sharp motion. “no, i’m not done, paige,” she snaps, and i nod my head, crossing my arms over my chest as she continues. “i’m so fucking tired of this—of you. of us. you don’t get it. you never get it. and i could leave you alone. block you, never speak to you again, but—“

i shift on my feet, licking my lips. “but you don’t wanna,” i finish for her.

she quirks a brow at me. “don’t tell me what i do and don’t want.” i want to laugh, because of course that’s how she’d respond. it’s probably how i would too. the irony isn’t lost on me.

“we’re the same,” i say.

her head jerks back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “what?”

“we’re the same,” i repeat, meeting her gaze head-on. “that’s why we keep coming back to each other, nai. why we can’t let go. what are the odds we found each other again in la? you know it just as much as i do.”

she stares at me, lips pressing into a tight line, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out whether i’m full of shit or actually making sense for once. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but i can see the wheels turning in her head, the way she’s trying to process what i just said.

“i’m not saying i’m perfect,” i add, stepping closer, lifting my body up off her car as i drop my voice lower. “i’m not. i fuck up. a lot. but i’ve always come back to you. always. and you? you always been there too, even when you’re mad, even when you’re hurt. we keep coming back because we don’t wanna lose this. each other.”

her lips part, her breathing uneven as she shakes her head again, though there’s less conviction behind it now. “don’t—” she starts, her voice trembling just slightly. “don’t do that. don’t make it sound like this is some… fate bullshit or whatever. it’s not. it’s messy, and it’s fucked up, and you—”

“me what, nai!?” i yell, and i think i’m just tired of her singling me out in all this like it hasn’t been a two-way street this entire time.

she squints at me, stepping closer, but i don’t back down. we’re closer now. too close. “you don’t get what it feels like to keep trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.” fuck. “you say all the right things, and then you fuck it up every single time.” her voice is calm, almost like she’s sick of yelling.

i feel my jaw clench involuntarily, and she’s getting me heated without trying. “that’s not true…” i start, but she doesn’t let me finish.

“shut up,” she snaps. “you think chasing after me, spitting a whole bunch of nothing about how we’re meant to be is gonna be the bandaid for all of this? you don’t even care about how much you’ve hurt me, paige. you never did.”

“that’s not fair, you know it,” i fire back. “and stop barkin’ at me like that.”

“or what? what are you gonna do?”

my hands are on her. her hips more specifically, guiding her over until she’s pinned against her the metal of her civic. she doesn’t fight it, even though she can’t with the way i’m handling her. her body flattens against it. “you know what i’m gonna do, nai?” i glance over her head, my eyes scanning the parking lot. still empty, just like when we got here. no headlights. no newcomers pulling in to park next to her car, not at this time of night.

her expression doesn’t waver. chin raised. lips tight. eyes locked on mine, daring me to follow through and say something that’ll only piss her off more. but i’m not giving her that. instead, i move my hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up to look at me. she whimpers, not expecting it.

i lean down, lips ghosting over her cheek. “i’m gonna remind you why you always come back.” her eyes have stayed on me, and she looks furious, hands glued to her sides.

but i’m not the one to initiate the crash of our lips, the sloppy spit exchange, she is.

her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine as if she’s trying to meld with me, trying to make this real again.

“you’re so…” it’s rough, a collision of teeth and tongues as she pulls me deeper, her body pressing me harder against hers. “fucking annoying,” she breathes. i tighten my hands around her hips, guiding her to move in sync with me, and she lets out a, “fuck,” finalizing her frustrations that only pushes me further.

“okay,” i nod, tugging at her bottom lip as i pull away, just enough to look into her eyes. “you can talk all the shit you want in this backseat.”

without waiting for a response, i take a few steps and pull the car door open, the interior lights flickering on over a whole area practically ready for us. begging us to fall into it. she hesitates, glancing inside and then back at me.

she smiles, a slow, knowing grin, and that’s all i need to see. without another word, she moves around me, slipping into the car. i lick my lips, smiling to myself as i follow her in, the door shutting softly behind me.

the lights are off just as quick.

we’ve done this enough times that she knows the drill. she slides the front seats up, making room for me to stretch out, spreading my legs wide to take up the space. i get comfortable, resting my head back, and my hands have already found her hips again, pulling her to straddle me.

she takes her time, teasing me in a way i’m starting to crave. when she finally settles over me, i waste no time pulling her closer until our bodies are flush, and i can feel her against me—the warmth of her cunt through the thin pair of panties she’s wearing.

the worst part? i’ve been thinking about what’s under this jean skirt since she walked in that fucking bar.

i grin like an idiot as my head lolls to the side, my lips pulling into a smirk as she leans down to cup my face with one hand. our lips crash together again, more sloppy than the first. it’s desperate, and feels so good. there’s something else there, too—something that makes me want more. every inch of me is focused on the way her mouth moves against mine, how she’s making me lose control all over again.

braaking away from the kiss, i trail my lips down her neck, sucking and biting gently. she grinds her hips against me, and all i don’t think about claiming her with a few marks just to be cheeky, i do.

“tell me how bad you want it,” i whisper, breath fanning over the now sensitive parts of her skin. i pin her hips in one spot, and she whines slightly, not being able to do anything to get herself off.

“don’t make me, p,” she mumbles all seductively, and my eyes meet hers in the way that normally mean i’m not fucking around with her.

she realizes, and her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “want your fingers…” she trails off, eyes trailing down to where my crotch is. she brings her own hand down, and i shift, sucking in. “inside of me,” she finishes. “please, paige… make me come.” she presses deeper, and i swear she’s just about the only one who knows exactly how to keep me on my toes.

“mmm.” i roll my head back to her, biting down on my lip as i hike her skirt up over her ass with both hands. i let them roam before placing one right underneath her, pushing her panties to the side. i find her wetness quick, pressing my middle and index finger through her folds. “here?” i tease as i start stroking.

she nods, arching against my hand, and i can already tell she’ll be struggling to stay upright. she throws her head back instead, letting her pants fog up the windows. “i’ont think i heard you, baby,” i taunt, biting down on my lip and circling just a little slower.

her hand wraps around my wrist, practically pushing me deeper into her. “yes, there, you ass,” she mumbles all breathless. i chuckle, feeling my body getting hot as i slip both fingers in, lips parting at the squelching sound that begins filling the car. she grinds down, making me dig even deeper.

i’ve hooked my other arm under her thigh, keeping her from going too far as i pick up a rhythm that has her losing it. her body moves like it’s made for this, like it knows how to follow my lead without even thinking about it. her pretty eyes flutter shut, and i feel her tighten again, clenching around me like she doesn’t wanna let go. she can’t.

“so fuckin’ tight. you like when i stretch you out?”

with her acrylics digging into the side of my neck, she begins bucking her hips, licking over her plump lips with a whine. “love it, p. feels s’good—shit,” she gasps, her normally doe, wide eyes all blown out from the pleasure.

“mhm? that good?” i bite on my lip so hard i swear it might bleed, moving my fingers all the way out and ramming them back in repeatedly. her breaths are shallow, uneven, and we’re doing just about the same amount of work. “show me how good, ma. show me you’re mine.”

i follow her gaze, looking for her eyes before she drops her head with a pathetic whine, picking up the pace of her hips, and the way her tits bounce in that top have me physically refraining from getting her more messy than she already is.

her hands start to trail up my body, and i feel the fabric of my shirt shift as her fingers slide underneath, her palms warm against my skin. she pushes it higher and higher, her movements unhurried, leaving the end of it bunched up in her hands, resting on my chest. i can’t help it—i flex, my muscles tightening under her touch, and her eyes drop, watching the way my body reacts to her.

her forehead leans further into my neck. “paige…”

i adjust my grip, sliding deeper, and she reacts instantly, her nails scratching at the back of my neck like she’s trying to hang on. my hand moves slower now, but with more purpose, every little motion driving her higher. “yeah,” i mumble gravelly, right against her ear. “c’mon, talk to me, baby. lemme hear you.”

her body jerks, like my voice alone is messing her up, and i can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. my lips find her jaw, then dip to her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her skin that are more-so like licks, tasting her. i want her to feel this everywhere—every touch, every word, everything i’m doing to her right now.

i scissor my fingers wider, and her hips grind against my hand faster, chasing it like she’s got no choice. “don’t stop,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, and it makes me damn near lose it. “please. fuuuck.”

i lean back just enough to make her look at me, my fingers not letting up for even a second. she’s completely wrecked, her lips parted, breathing all over the place, and it’s a sight i’ll never forget. “aight,” i say, my grip tightening on her thigh as i furrow my eyebrows, chewing on my lip for some relief. “i got you. you almost there, pretty? c’mon, you know you wanna come.”

nai nods feverishly, and i can already see some of her wetness spilling out of her with every thrust, seeping into my sweatpants. she screws her eyes shut, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth, and it fuels me, my fingers working her just right.

“this?” i growl, curling right up under that deep sticky patch that’s gonna send her right over the edge. “that’s me. you feel that? nobody else. just me.”

“paige. shit. stop that—“ she gasps again, and i can tell she’s right there, hanging on by a thread. my thumb presses harder against her clit, my fingers curling deeper, and i lean into her ear again, my voice coming just over the sex sounds. “say it. say you’re mine, baby. don’t act shy now.”

her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, wide and glossy, like i’ve pulled something raw out of her. “i’m yours,” she chokes out, and it’s all she manages before her body locks up, trembling hard as she falls apart in my arms, completely wrecked.

i hold her through it as her breath stutters against my neck, my hands steady, my lips brushing over her temple as i mutter, “that’s my girl.”

her breathing slows, and she stays close, like she’s tethered herself to me, and i let her. my hand pulls out of her, moving to soothe the small of her back in lazy circles, my head tilting to press my lips to her hair. her scent clings to me—sweet, familiar, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s dangerous.

“you good?” i ask, a little quieter now, dipping into something softer, something i don’t let just anyone hear. only her.

she nods faintly against my shoulder, and i can feel her heartbeat slowing down, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. her hands grip my shirt like she’s afraid i’ll pull away, so i stay, holding her just a little tighter, letting the silence stretch between us.

finally, she pulls back, just enough to look at me. her face is flushed, her lips graced with this small smile, and her eyes are still shining.

“44.2%,” she whispers.

i blink, knitting my eyebrows together as i smirk slowly. “what?”

“the odds,” she says, rolling her eyes as a grin pulls wider across her flushed face. “that you got drafted here. that we found each other again in la.”

i smile. not because she looks stupid for remembering that or even because it’s the first thing she thought of after everything we just did, but because it’s not fate, it’s us.