Liv

19 🀣 wlw 🀤 lover of sorts

[50shadesofchrome]

Masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ

𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

Dinner and a Show ᝰ.ᐟ

Sleepover Secret ᝰ.ᐟ

𝔊𝔩𝔢𝔢

After Practice ᝰ.ᐟ

𝔜𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔧𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔱𝔰

Off the Field ᝰ.ᐟ

𝔇ℭ

Date with a Hero ᝰ.ᐟ

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔦𝔱𝔱

Clocking Out ᝰ.ᐟ

[50shadesofchrome]

Date with a Hero

Supergirl x Fem!Reader

Summary: When your ever-so-confident coworker, Kara Danvers, asks you out on a date on a particularly bad day at work, you excitedly found yourself eager to present yourself as perfect to her. That ecstasy subsided when she just up and left you with no explanation at the bar. Scrambling to understand her sudden disappearance, little did you know she had a very reasonable excuse..

18+/MDNI

Warnings: fluff, kissing

wc: 4000

Hustling through the front doors of that colossal skyscraper that was basically your second home, your files of notes flew out from under your arm. Already late for your shift, you bent down dramatically to pick up your messy papers, spilling the boiling coffee in your hand onto your pant leg and papers beneath you. “Shit,” you yelped a little too loudly, burning liquid dribbling down your ankle, pooling into your heels. Sighing out, you gathered up the now soaked notes, illegible with brown stains smearing the pen ink. Silence fell over the massive lobby, employees and secretaries eyeing you scrambling to recover yourself. As you lifted yourself off the ground, now sticky with useless documents that took you hours to type out, your eyes scanned the judgment on everyone’s faces. “Thanks for the help, assholes,” you muttered under your breath, strolling to the elevator. Heels sending an echoey click clack through the open room, you could already hear your boss’s scolding tangent at the sight of your ruined work. Already overdue for clocking in, there would surely be no time to reprint all of your precious papers. The embarrassment in your chest subsided a little as the elevator dinged open, allowing a smaller, emptier room for you to surround yourself in before the door would open again to the opposite environment.

A young intern whizzed past you, a tower of papers in his hands, probably heading to the ever-demanding Cat Grant’s office. Your coworkers, all in sleek business wear, rushed around the floor, busying themselves with new article ideas. Everyone was especially busy and frantic this past week, new monsters and evil CEO’s planning on taking over National City were abundant, but all taken care of immediately by Supergirl. Lately, the hero was working overtime to keep the community safe, sending CatCo workers into a tabloid-producing frenzy. Stepping towards your desk, a raspy voice yelled behind you, “Stepped in a muddy puddle today I see.” Looking down at your leg, you winced noticing the coffee stain being more noticeable than before. “I’ve had a bad morning Danvers, now’s not the time,” You eyed the smirking blonde woman in the eye, chucking your now empty coffee cup in the little plastic trash bin under your desk. “Six dollars down the drain,” you exhaled, gaze averting from the cup to your crinkled, brown papers you had just slammed onto the desk. Kara, in her form fitted, navy blue dress, strutted up to your cubicle. Shuffling through your notes, she snickered, “Yeah, Cat’s not going to be happy about that.” You pursed your lips and slouched into your chair. Noticing your stress at this early hour, she clicked her tongue, trying a different approach, “What if I offered to buy you a coffee some time..off the clock?” An eyebrow involuntarily raised, huffing out a laugh, you didn’t understand her intentions. “You’re sweet Ms. Danvers, but let’s keep this professional,” you joked, not thinking that your witty coworker might want to actually take things a step farther than being platonic. 

“Why not?” Her tone suddenly shifted to something more shaky and genuine. You paused, head tilting up from your desk to the girl leaning on your cubicle wall. She bit at her lip, pushing her glasses up her button nose before crossing her arms tightly against her chest. “What–like what do you mean, you want to take me out for a date or something?”

“Kind of..yeah,” Kara gulped, patting at her dress and adjusting her claw clip, holding up her silky hair, doing anything to avoid eye contact with you. You rarely saw her nervous, she was always so quick to charm Cat with a flattering compliment or jest (which wasn’t an easy thing to do). Mouth falling open, dry without a prepped response, Cat swung her office dorm and screeched out, “I need those LutherCorp articles, now.” Slumping your head into your hands, all of your thoughts regarding Kara’s awkward attempt at asking you out faded away. You could almost envision yourself clearing out your desk, sobbing to your parents on the phone that you’d just been fired. “Good luck, maybe she’ll understand.” Your coworker’s hand found itself cupping your shoulder, sending a minuscule wave of hope through your body. Using all your might to push up out of the rolling chair and take careful steps to your boss’s office, tears already threatened to flood your cheeks.

Cat typed melodramatically on her computer waiting for your arrival. “Finally, we need the deets on LutherCorp ASAP.” The prissy bleach blond didn’t even look up from her computer as you softly shut the door behind you. 

“Um..about that Ms.Grant..” You struggled to croak out.

“Don’t tell me any of those bitchy LutherCorp employees denied you an interview,” Cat continued mindlessly watching her computer screen.

“I did the work, I swear, but uh,” your voice faded out as you slid the crumpled, grimy stack on her desk towards her. Straying away from your professional tone you tried to upkeep, pleads and desperate excuses fled from your mouth before she could even process the unreadable papers. “I’m sorry, I was a mess this morning. I spilled coffee on it and I wasn’t paying attention and–” Your cracked voice bounced off the glass walls of her hopefully sound proof office. Shutting her laptop to meet you with an unimpressed stare, she cleared her throat and began, “How could you be so careless? These reports are crucial–” Shutting your eyes, you expected her to kick you to the curb. Cat Grant was never understanding when it came to making mistakes. 

Before she could finish her disappointed reprimand, the glass door behind you almost shattered with the force of which it was flung open. “Ms. Grant, she left her extra copies on my desk,” an out of breath, familiar voice disrupted your train of thought. “Kara, you can’t just walk in here like that,” Cat’s hand flew to slap her own forehead in annoyance. As Kara stepped up in front of you, tight dress riding up her toned thighs, she handed your boss a stack of freshly white copies, exact replicas of your work before the coffee-spilling incident just moments ago. In awe, you couldn't understand how your coworker was able to print all of that out in a matter of minutes. You watched Cat’s eyebrow raise while flipping through the overwhelming amount of reports, like a statue, all words and movements disconnected from your body. “I guess you’re off the hook this time. You’re extremely lucky you had extra copies. Oh and..go clean yourself up,” she motioned toward your half brown pant leg before opening her laptop back up to turn her thoughts away from you. Your chest heaved, tension releasing from your body, “T-thank you, Ms. Grant.”

Kara and you lurched to the door exiting Cat’s stuffy office, side by side. Leaning your head into her ear, you whispered, “I owe you one, big time.” Her face formed an upturned smile while pulling her glasses off her face to chew on the arms. “How about you owe me that date?” You completely forgot about the uneasy interaction the two of you had before Cat called you in. Kara had always drawn your attention on the floor, her witty comments and toothy grin were refreshing. There was always a busy assignment Cat sent you to complete, guaranteeing to cut off your distracting thoughts of Kara, or any thoughts of romance for that matter. Reality sinking in, your heart raced with excitement. The star reporter, Kara Danvers, whose beauty and allure couldn't be ignored by anyone on the floor, took an interest in you. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” you attempted a nonchalant demeanor, pushing down an eager smile. “Great, are you free tonight?” she faced you, just as you reached your designated cubicle again. “Looks like I’ll have to check my schedule,” you huffed out sarcastically, gaze travelling from her icy blue eyes to your nonexistent watch on your wrist. Flopping into your chair, you twisted to face your keyboard, “Looks like I can squeeze you in tonight.” Kara threw her head forward in a snort, hand propped on the top of the paper-thin wall that surrounded your desk. She adjusted her glasses to sit higher up on her nose once again, that little nerdy appeal you seemed to not notice as much before creating butterflies in your lower stomach. “Perfect. Meet me at Al’s. 6:30,” The blond swiveled away to the opposite direction, heels tapping against the floor as she headed to her own desk. Pausing before you lost sight of her, she turned her head ninety degrees, just enough to allow you to hear her clever, “and maybe..wear something less brown.”

You rolled your eyes, face heating up with a visible red flush that you'd hoped she wasn’t able to catch. This shitty morning turned into a more tranquil day at work, all because of Kara’s lifesaving ability to print out papers at record-breaking speeds. On a usual shift, your hands would have already felt sore from the sheer amount of words you can type out with an unrelenting focus. Today, your eyes lingered on Kara’s side profile, biting her pen and furrowing her brows in a brainstorm. LutherCorp was the farthest thing on your mind right now, a blank document was depicted on your computer screen as you daydreamed about your date with Kara later.

It looked almost as if a tornado had hit your apartment, the way half of your wardrobe was sporadically draped across your furniture. Gripping your hair in frustration, it appeared as if every piece of clothing you had come across was business casual dresses and pantsuits strictly for work. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually dressed up nice to go out. Finally coming across something semi-cute, you called it a day and just hoped Kara would find you as attractive as you found her in anything you threw on.

Popping your freshly glossed lips in the mirror, your phone screen lit up on the countertop below, and the “6:12 PM” screamed at you. Sighing out and wiggling the tension out of your body, you made your way to the door, ready to be welcomed to a new side of Kara Danvers.

The mood-lit bar was loud with rock music and the cracking sounds of pool table balls being jutted by bikers and alternative National City citizens. Browsing the rustic interior, you forgot for a split moment to not look for the shapely figure dressed in professional attire. A familiar head of blonde waves stuck out to you at the bar. Almost as if she sensed your presence, Kara twisted around in the little leather stool, meeting eyes with you. Smiling, she awkwardly pushed her glasses up the thin bridge of her nose, glasses of a brown liquid in both her hands. Strutting up to you in a low-cut white shirt, clad with a brown leather jacket, she held out the drinks far away from her body to not clumsily spill them on her jeans. “Never seen you in something else besides your corporate dresses, this looks good on you,” you greeted her, a snarky facade concealing your nervousness. “Well, hello to you, too. You don’t look too bad yourself.” Eyes lingering on your exposed legs for a second too long, Kara hesitated before pushing a glass towards you, “I didn’t know what you liked to drink, so I just got us both Jack and Cokes.”

“You’re a saint.” Your fingertips grazed hers as you clutched onto the glass, catching you off guard before you shakingly continued, “After the morning I’ve had. God, I still can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t sweat it. I was just helping out my favorite coworker..I got a table for us, come on,” Kara reached her free hand out to tug onto your arm, her striking grip strength seemed unnatural on her, with a slim figure and that innocent gleam in her bright eyes. Leading you to the only table with a candle and white fabric tablecloth, you raised your eyebrows in appreciation. “Wow, you went all out, Danvers,” you let the words slide off your tongue as smoothly as you slid into the booth seat in front of her. “I didn’t know you’d still be charming outside of work, too?” You did, in fact, know that she'd be able to sweep you off your feet anywhere else besides that towering CatCo building. She swiped a piece of her blond hair that seemed to glow even in the dim bar lighting behind her, biting her lip. “Yeah, well, I do a lot of things outside of work,” Kara sipped from her glass, a slight grimace apparent on her face, still not used to the tang of the alcohol. “Tell me,” interested in how her confident self carried through every part and hobby of her life.

A never-ending, ricocheting conversation discussing each other's interests and hobbies flowed for a few minutes before a waiter approached your table. “Have you guys decided what you wanted?” Looking at each other with a blank stare, the two of you had completely forgotten to even consider food. On a whim, you picked the first thing that caught your eye off the sticky menu, “Uh..I'll do the fettuccine alfredo, please.” Truthfully, you didn’t care what you ate at that moment, you just wanted to spend the night talking to Kara, mouth full of words, not food. “And I’ll have the same as her,” Kara sent you a wink while ordering, sending a frenzy of warm feelings to your abdomen.

The waiter shuffled away, leaving the two of you in a silence, staring into each other's dilated pupils. Whether yours or Kara’s eyes were blown out from the overbearing light above the table, or from the sheer admiration for each other, you didn’t know how you missed out on the bliss of looking into the deep blueness of hers all this time. Biting her bottom lip, she broke eye contact by tilting her head down to grab her glass and swivel the last few sips of alcohol around, awkwardly. This was the first time her confidence faltered around you, somehow making you more hypnotized by her charm. “You know, Kara, I didn’t think I could like you this much so fast.” Mindlessly, that name, Kara, rolled off your tongue so easily. In the workplace, it was a common gag to call each other strictly by your last names. She looked up, taking in your smirking expression. 

Her matte pink, lipsticked-covered lips separated on the edge of responding, until she paused to grab her phone from her back pocket. Glaring at the screen, she grimaced and stuttered out, “I-I have to go.” She slammed her glass down on the table before clumsily shuffling out of the booth. “What? Kar-Danvers. Is everything okay–?” Jarred and confused, your voice cracked with insecurity. Was it too much? You didn’t think a first-name basis would scare her off. “I’m sorry, it’s an emergency, really!” She fished out a few crumpled bills from her back pocket and dropped them on the table before striding to the bar’s exit doors. Shouting out a last, “I’m sorry,” Kara didn’t even meet your eyes once more as she raced out the door without an explanation. God, you were an idiot, you thought. Maybe you shouldn’t have told her you liked her so early into the date. The first date, in fact.

The violent overhead light that gleamed across Kara’s face in front of you now seemed to glare irritably in your eyes as you stayed seated at the table, in shock. Heart sunken, the waiter approached you at the wrong moment with two plates of delicious-looking pasta. A confused look on his face, he set one of the dishes on Kara’s side of the table, “Uh you..two enjoy.” Your stomach churned, and not with the butterflies Kara gave you moments before. You nodded a thank you in the waiter’s direction, picking up a fork to play around in the saucy noodles, appetite too far gone. Unable to sit and ignore your coworker’s urgent runaway, you gulped and lifted from the warm-cushioned booth under you. The crumpled dollars Kara tossed before her disappearance sat still on the edge of the table as you walked outside to the city’s nightlife.

In the distant horizon, a Godzilla-esque monster grunted as two thin laser beams protruded from a small floating figure in the sky, pelting its reptilian skin. Supergirl. Frozen civilians around the outlets of businesses stood, mouth agape, watching Supergirl use her natural finesse to protect the city. In any other circumstance, you would’ve been another sheep in the crowd, dialing in on the superhero’s ability to take down such a beast. The solemn graveness in your heart forced you to keep your head down and continue picking up your feet to locate a cab.

Huffing out a disappointed exhale as you jammed your key into your rundown apartment’s door, you checked your phone by instinct, hoping a message from Kara would appear. A second exhale escaped as you were welcomed to the storm of clothing on every piece of furniture you owned. Unbothered, you lobbed your keys on the kitchen counter and sauntered to your couch. The leather-clad couch felt cold against your legs as you plopped down. Unwillingly, tears broke free from your eyes and waterfalled down your face, streaks of foundation and concealer disappearing with the droplets. You scrambled for the television remote on the cushion beside you, flickering between channels on the big screen in front of you, doing anything to have your mind on something else besides the incredible failure that was your date. Zoning into the sitcom ahead, the blurriness in your eyes began to subside. Checking your phone one last time, the screen lit up with a blank screensaver, no notification from Kara in sight. With pursed lips and squinted eyes, you thought to yourself fuck her, seriously fuck h- 

  A knock at your..door? No, the window–halted your thoughts entirely. Jolting upwards from the indent in your couch, you briskly turned your head to the glass wall that acted as a barrier between you and National City’s night sky that overlooked the various buildings and traffic lights below. Blond hair and a red cape flowing in the wind behind the window startled you. The infamous “S” symbol across the figure’s chest seemed like a dream. Why would Supergirl be knocking at your window? Without wasting a second, you flipped the latch and used all your might to lift the old, worn-out glass up an inch. The girl, miraculously standing on air, used one hand to pull the rest of the window up, without even an ounce of struggle in her demeanor. Climbing through the open space, red boots clomped onto the creaky apartment floor in front of you. Several confused thoughts washed through your brain, zero words were able to release themselves from your throat. The perfect-looking woman brushed hair from her face and smiled at you, “You didn’t think I would miss out on our date like that, did you?”

“What?”

“I was really looking forward to kicking your ass in pool after we ate–”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m sorry, Supergirl, is it? I haven’t had the best night,” the lamp light in the corner of the room reflected off the hero’s shiny, golden belt into your eyes.

“Listen, it’s me, Kara. Nobody can know.”

You snorted out a tired laugh, immediately in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” the woman in the tight, navy blue suit that hugged her figure just right, gulped nervously. Looking at her features more intently, you recognized those striking blue eyes and that button nose a little more clearly now. Refreshing your memories, Kara's quick charm, wit, and strength all made sense now. “I told you I had an emergency, that dinosaur thing really wore me out,” she chuckled out, flattening out her short, red skirt, which mimicked the way Kara anxiously swirled her glass around to avoid an awkward gaze during your date. That final touch convincing you, a cracked, “Danvers,” slipped through your lips. A chilling breeze through the window wafted against your skin as she stepped closer, toned legs above those tight boots catching your sight. “Yeah..I liked it when you called me Kara better,” cupping your face as she inched close to you, body heat suppressing the frigid winds from the outside. The last sight you saw before closing your eyes and welcoming her lips to yours was that sly grin she would always shoot at you in the office. Warm mouth overlapping onto yours, a soft, audible sigh left her mouth. You were quick to clutch onto her hips, that well-known suit pressed against your fingertips. Kara slid her hands to the back of your head, tightening her grip around your hair. Her tongue made its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your nails dug into her sides, pulling her chest against yours. You couldn't believe you had Supergirl in your arms, let alone so whipped for you.

Her gentle hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shoving you backwards farther into your living room. Lips staying clamped together, the vibrations of her soft moans traveled through your mouth. The back of your knees hit the plush leather of the couch, causing you to stumble backwards into the same position you were before Kara had knocked at your window. The desperate woman climbed atop your lap, bare thighs wrapping around your legs, cape draping down to the floor. With a sudden lurch away from your grasp, the saliva string that connected the two of you snapped. “You can’t tell anyone–" she spewed swiftly in a shaky voice, which you cut off with a roll of the eyes and a quick peck. “I won’t tell, I promise. Plus, I want Supergirl all to myself,” you muttered close enough to her, to where your lips brushed against her pink ones. Kara nudged up against you, pushing you deeper into the couch. Her metallic “S” plate felt cold against your chest through your thin shirt. Before she could encapsulate your lips again, you pursed your lips and eyed her. “Can I ask how you knew where I lived?” She clicked her tongue and ran a smooth hand down your neck, easily distracting you from your own question. Your breath hitched as a confident voice, a clone of her classic tone she would use with you at the office let go a, “I have my ways.” Of course Supergirl has “her ways.”

The tip of her nose brushed against yours as the two of you sunk into each other once again. Your tongue dared to enter her mouth this time, eliciting a small grumble from the superhero. You wrapped your hands all the way around her small back under that crimson cape, not wanting to free yourself from this moment ever. Kara began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses from your cheek to your neck. Lifting your head for easier access, she peeled her eyes open to be met with the messy makeup on the side of your face, understanding that tears were the culprit. She rubbed her thumb over the sticky foundation, smoothing it out. Her mouth opened to obviously ask what happened. “I thought you left our date..because of me.” She sighed out, heartbroken at your response, “I wouldn't leave you high and dry just like that. Never.” With a smile you threw your head back onto the couch, admiring her wandering eyes. “Can I also ask, what’s with all these clothes around here?” Forgetting about the embarrassing disaster around your apartment, your lips quivered, trying to find something snarky to reply with, but all you could muster up was a humiliated, “shut up.” Without questioning anything else, Kara threw her beautiful golden hair to the side, attacking your lips with fervor.

God, you didn’t know how the two of you would approach this at work tomorrow. All you knew at this very moment was that it was so worth it.

[50shadesofchrome]

running it back in honor of Supergirl release day!

[faberryfreak]

i get so gay off that barsantos blunt

[reverieal]

❛❛｡｡｡ When the Wine Runs Out ‧₊˚. "

★ pairing: baran al-hashimi x fem!reader

★ summary: working your first week at the pitt, you couldn't help but notice your attending pushing you much harder than your peers. After a close call with a patient and a fortunate discovery, your good impression on your superior would land you an opportunity you couldn't pass up. could it be there was a whole other side to baran al-hashimi?

★ warnings: 18+ MDNI, nsfw sexual content, fingering r!receiving, oral b!receiving, semi-plot focused, graphic descriptions of injury and treatment (i am by no means a medical professional), first dates, co-worker relationship

★ word count: 3.1k

"heard through a friend she's a born-again wildcard. she was telling me wild things . . ."

Busy, loud, overwhelming at the very least. This was your new normal. Pittsburgh wasn't exactly the safest city, so there was a lot to be done minute by minute at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. The place where you stood in a dreary haze on your first day as a medical resident was like being a mouse in a snake pit. It wasn't long into your first shift before you began to doubt yourself. What if you weren't cut out for this? What if it was all too much? These thoughts would circulate in your head without the help of your attending, Dr. Al-Hashimi, saying them out loud for you at any chance she got. 

The patient wailed in pain, cradling her broken shin despite the doctor's surrounding her and attempting to get close. She kicked around the soccer cleat on her good leg erratically, body still pumping with adrenaline from the side tackle she had endured to give her such a gruesome injury. Dr. Al-Hashimi barked question after question at you—well, more like spoke at her usual register, only slightly louder.

“We have a patient with an open tibia fracture and possible trauma to the head. What is our first course of action?” She demanded. You blinked at her, trying to come up with the words. 

“Check pupils to rule out concussions or possible hematoma, stabilize the neck if needed, and only then treat the fracture.” 

“Correct.” For a moment, the woman almost looked impressed. You could see her brain circling through all the ways in which you could be wrong, and soon, the lightbulb appeared above those curly locks of hair. She quickly called out for a dosage of morphine from the surrounding staff.

“Although you must have overlooked the fact that our patient is in distress. You have to ensure your patient is still if we want to safely treat this leg.” She said the words as she expertly administered the drug. You sighed. It was so obvious. You couldn’t help but kick yourself as she looked away from you and focused her attention back on the girl. 

Al-Hashimi definitely had it out for you. She must have, since no other resident had gotten the same treatment as you. Hell, she wouldn’t ask anything of the others, calling out diagnoses and treatments before they could even think of them. She paid so much more attention to you—more specifically, to your slip-ups. She would assign you way more patients, ask so much of you. Why? Was she trying to see you crack? To snap under the pressure? Did she know just as well as you did that you weren't cut out for this? 

It wasn't long into your brief spell of self-doubt that you were called into a curtained room—as if she had read your mind. You immediately jumped into action, running in and processing what you saw: a man in his mid-twenties with a fork sticking out of his shoulder. What made the sight a bit more odd was that he was in a full tuxedo. Suddenly, your silent questions were answered when a string of vulgarities bellowed from outside the room. Snapping your head toward the sound, a woman in a huge toustled wedding dress was being wheeled in on a gurney, covering her eye with a bloody hand.

“I’ve got bride vs. wedding cake, need assistance!” called Dr. McKay. You faced the man once more and put the pieces together. ‘Wedding gone wrong’ seemed to be an understatement. You were pulled from your thoughts as the man wailed once more, clutching his arm. Dr. Al-hashimi called you by your last name, willing your feet to carry you over to her side. You felt her body heat on yours and—unless you had imagined it—her arm momentarily brush up against you. 

“Care to do the honors?” She asked as she slipped a syringe into your hand, presumably some sort of numbing agent. You took it from her, letting your hand stutter for a moment, before wiping down an area of skin. Al-Hashimi clicked the gurney flat—to the patients dismay—and switched places with you. “Alright, sir, I’m giving you something for the pain, okay?” The man just grunted with discomfort and nodded.

As you injected the site of the wound, the man's wails and grunts subsided. Only then was it time to treat it. Al-Hashimi switched places with you once more and slowly pulled the fork out of the man’s arm. As she cleaned the small wounds, you couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. You looked back at your fellow spectating residents, Kwon and Ogilvie, who seemed none the wiser. Your sights returned to the man. His eyes were wide and his blue-ish lips agape, struggling to let out any noise. 

“Wait!” You called, halting Dr. Al-Hashimi instantly. You slammed your hand onto the cold instrument tray, rattling around the metal that lay there, and retrieving a shiny pair of trauma shears. You forced the man's blazer open and took the shears to the fabric underneath, revealing bruising on his torso, quickly transforming into a darker purple. Almost instantaneously, the heart monitor in the room began to beep erratically. Your attending's eyes widened at your discovery, still unmoving, yet you jumped right into action. 

“Pneumothorax! We’re gonna need a chest tube!” you bellow as you look up to Dr. Al-Hashimi, who seemed to have been jolted out of her state of shock. She immediately got to work setting up a tube thoracostomy and guiding you through the process. When the patient finally began to cough, air entering the lungs once more, you began to dress the tube. You felt eyes on you. Looking up, you met Al-hashimi’s gaze. 

“Excellent catch,” she said in a feathery-light tone, almost breathless, and gently nudged you with the lean of her body into yours. 

As you finished up with the patient, a million thoughts circled your head. Was that… a compliment? From Dr. Al-Hashimi, no less? Walking out of the room and gathering your sanity, you failed to hear the sound of running sneakers trailing close behind you. 

“Outstanding work,” your attending commended, once again nudging you ever so slightly, your stride stuttering. 

“Oh, thank you, Dr. Al. I’m learning from the best.” The other woman chuckled. As the two of you approached the nurses' station, she turned to speak to you. 

“So, tell me,” she began, putting your last name after the prefix “Dr.” It was a title you hadn't yet earned, but coming from her mouth, it felt real as ever. “How has your first week been going?” I’ve seen you do some amazing things around here.” This was a whole new side of Dr. Al-hashimi. She was still so stoic, but there was a newfound kindness in her voice. 

“You think so? I didn’t really catch that vibe—Of course, it's an honor to hear, coming from you, Dr. Al,” you immediately regretted the joke as it leaped off your tongue. It didn’t seem to phase your attending, though, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. She looked to the floor, evading eye contact as she continued. 

“Well, anywho… With all you’ve had to endure this past week, I think celebrations are in order.”

“Celebrations?” you ask.

“I was thinking you and I could meet over a glass of wine? Any questions you may have, pertaining to the job or anything else, I’m all ears.” You could hardly contain your obvious enthusiasm. Dr. Al-Hashimi was a legend long before she found herself in the Pitt. The offer was too good to refuse. 

“Seriously? That’d be amazing, Dr. Al,” you stuttered. “I have too many to count.” The woman before you laughed. 

“Don’t get too carried away.” She pat your shoulder before gliding off to one of the many other curtained rooms, leaving you standing there starstruck.

After going over the details of times and locations, and you leaving work with spirals in your eyes, you were finally walking into the place Dr. Al-hashimi chose—the one you let her pick, being entirely new to the city. Your backless dress seemed like a poor choice due to the chilly Pennsylvania night air. The best—and only—pair of heels you own, clicking past the hostess, you scanned the tables for one woman only. You came up empty. Did she change her mind? Did she decide this was unprofessional? As you contemplated turning on your heels and walking right out, you heard your last name being called from across the restaurant. Your head snapped in the voice's direction, and there, sitting at the dimly lit bar in an expensive-looking white blouse, was her.

“Dr. Al,” you said, approaching the woman, likely doing a poor job at disguising your anxiety.

“Please, call me Baran. You’ve gotten me out of the hospital, I’d say you’ve earned it.” A smile tugged at your lips, repeating the name back to her. When you sat down at the bar, you couldn’t help but stare at the wine glass halfway full of a pale liquid next to Baran’s own glass.

“I took a guess,” she said, answering the question you didn’t dare ask. You didn’t say anything, just smiled and took a sip from the glass. Your eyes never left hers. 

Of course, the evening started as intended. You just couldn’t resist. You’d always looked up to her after all. You had to know each and every last one of her secrets. You just didn't realize how far she’d let you push it.

Somewhere along the line, you had forgotten to ask your burning questions. Somewhere along the lines, she realized she had no interest in answering them. You were both left there with nothing to connect you but the air surrounding your bodies. She laughed at your jokes. The ones that you were too nervous to come up with punchlines for. Somehow, some way, her hand became rested atop yours. And of course, your hand stayed put, allowing her to trace tiny shapes over your knuckles. Neither of you could pull your eyes off one another. It became increasingly clear what the night had turned into. 

Not a moment passed after you had your last sip before Baran slammed a few bills onto the counter and took your hand, already out of her seat. It was strange to see the wildcard she could be with just a few drinks in her system. 

The walk up to her apartment was arm-in-arm, the two of you filling the hallway with whispers and giggles. She struggled to get her key in the door. You leaned into her in a fit of silent laughs. The second she got it open, all bets were off. You couldn’t say who pulled who in first, but before you knew it, your faces pressed against each other. Your hands roamed each other's bodies, grasping at each other's hair, waist, and everywhere in between. 

You were in a completely new environment. You didn’t know the lay of the land. You let Baran guide you around her apartment until your back collided with the kitchen island. You chuckled into her lips. She wasn't laughing. Your arms felt like they were ripped away from her as she grabbed you by the waist and spun you around. Your palms slapped against the cold marble. It took a moment to catch your breath as she snaked her arms around your waist, pressing her body against your back. You could feel her breath against your ear as she whispered.

“Tell me you want this.” You sighed out at her demand, feeling her hand trail down your front. You swallowed hard, the phantom sensations of her hand hovering over where you needed her most begging you to answer her. You dropped your head in a desperation you had never felt before.

“Please, Baran.” It came out whinier than you had anticipated. You could almost feel her sneering against your bare back, her free hand rubbing up and down your spine.

You awaited anything she would give you, not for a moment thinking about the conflict of interest this would create at work. It seemed she didn’t either, as she wasted no time slipping her hands up your dress and into the lace that hid you from everything else. She mumbled an “are you sure?” knowing she needed no further confirmation. She may not have even noticed your frantic nods, too focused on the sensation of her two fingers plunging into you. You all but went limp against the counter, arching your back as you cried out. She didn’t give you any time to think, picking her fast pace and sticking to it. This was a completely new sensation for you, being the first time in so long you had let someone so close. You turned your upper body to face her, needing to see those features of hers twisted into something you've never seen from her before. She immediately engulfed you in a kiss. Careless, messy, desperate. She never faltered from her pace, curling her fingers in just the right ways. 

It wasn’t long before you could feel something building in your lower stomach. Her free hand cupped your face, feeling you grow tighter with the other. You cried out, her fingers curving perfectly, having you shuddering, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Baran worked you through it, whispering into your ear until you came down from your high in pants. 

When you caught hold of your senses, you felt her fingers slowly pull out of you and both of her hands began to caress up and down your body. The two of you couldn't help but smile, unmoving. 

Finally, you turned to face her, back pressed to the counter. She leaned in to kiss you, more careful than before but just as messy. 

She smiled into your lips. “Did you like that?” You all but snorted.

“Are you kidding me?” You leaned back and snaked your arms around her waist. “I’ve gotta return the favor.” She stumbled back against your clumsy movements toward… what you hoped was her bedroom, swallowing, you back up into more frantic kisses.

You could barely make up the scenery of Baran’s bedroom over her big curls, only the neatly made bed and the walls of neutral colors. In your tipsy haze, you hadn't realized how close you were to the bed. That was, until Baran was tumbling backwards onto it, you crashing down on the plush mattress with her. You were about to break into a fit of apologies when Baran erupted in laughter, covering her mouth. Embarrassment subsiding, seeing her unserious state, your confidence returned. You grasped her wrist and planted it beside her head. Her laughter stopped. She gazed into your eyes before you planted one hard kiss to her soft lips. Your hands trailed off, finding their way to the hem of her soft, flowy top.

“Off,” you breathed. She laughed, lifting her body to help you get the fabric over her head.

You took the time to admire her body, almost completely bare. It was enough to make her blush. She tried to cover her face, but, of course, you didn’t let her. You wanted to see all of her. You leaned into her neck, planting soft kisses down to her collarbones. She couldn't stifle the sighs that came when you reached a certain spot. A spot that you’d internalize for future use. That is, of course, if she wants this to happen again, something you already craved. 

You kissed the curvature of her breasts and down her stomach. Her pants proved as being wholly in the way. You continued as you unzipped the jeans and slowly pulled them down her legs along with her underwear, eyes locked on hers. Baran wasn’t a shy woman. She didn’t get embarrassed. That's why seeing her like this, blushing and biting her lip, was all the more sexy to you. You were already addicted. You got comfortable between her thighs, taking in the sight of her, all of her. She immediately found solace in your hair. You took the hint, knowing exactly what she needed. You didn’t waste a moment of Baran’s precious time, testing the waters with a small kitten lick right where she wanted you. It would have seemed like she was holding her breath for ages, her chest fully sinking in a moan of relief. Taking her response as a green light, you took her clit in your mouth. Her fingers tightened around your locks, unknowingly pulling at the strands. You didn’t mind. Hell, you didn’t even notice, the taste of her filling your senses. You were lost in it, lapping up everything she would give you. You could tell she wanted more. Wanted all you could offer. You teased her entrance with one finger, looking up to meet her eyes. She uttered a “please,” throwing her head back to await what she trusted you to do. You loved her like this. You wanted to savor it. Unhurriedly, you sunk your pointer finger inside of her. Her back arched up off the mattress, a groan releasing from her throat. You soon added another, bringing her so close to the edge you could feel it. You licked and sucked at her core, simultaneously thrusting your fingers in and out of her, movements getting messier as you progressed. It wasn't long before you felt her clench tighter around you. You sped up, determined to bring her to that release she chased. 

In a guttural cry, she came around your fingers, hips quivering uncontrollably as you fucked her through it. Her legs continued to spasm as you slowly pulled out of her. Slowly, you inched up to hover over the mess of a woman you’d created. You bored into her gaze as you made a show of taking your fingers into your own mouth, tasting her essence on them. Baran panted, looking as if she were near drooling. When you pulled the fingers out with a pop, she immediately had the nape of your neck underneath her palm, smushing your face into hers. You fell beside her, never breaking from the kiss. You panted into each other, allowing the ecstasy to partly subside and bring you back to earth. Smiles pulled at your features, ear to ear, grinning into each other’s lips. All you could think about now was whether she would ever let this happen again. Whether she would change her mind or not and allow you to take her out on a proper date. All you could do was hope she’d show you this wild side of her once again.

a/n: hi all it's been a while but i hope this slop with so many medical inaccuracies can suffice as content, it took entirely too long to write... also, if on the off chance any doctors or med students are reading i am very sorry for the tough read...

[50shadesofchrome]

Clocking Out

Trinity Santos x Fem!Reader

Summary: During your first shift as an incoming resident at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the blunt and brooding doctor, Trinity Santos. You weren't expecting the night to come after she gave you that stupid nickname..

18+/MDNI

Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral, MEDICALLY INNACURATE

wc: 4600

☤ 7:00 AM ☤

The loose, black scrubs felt unfamiliar and foreign on you as you nervously walked the maze of hallways to the emergency department of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Your first day of residency.

Entering the bustling area with distressed patients, comforting nurses, terrifying doctors, and experienced residents running about, you felt your heart sink with anxiousness. You and your tiny group of first-day residents stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of the professional healthcare workers. Taking in your surroundings, your breath got caught in your throat and your gaze fell to a specific brunette woman sitting at one of the center desks. Her hazelnut-colored hair was thrown into a half-up half down, an absurdly small ponytail protruding from the back of her head made you smirk. You found this feature endearing, until she suddenly twisted her head around to directly catch your admiring stare. Her eyes held contact with yours with an intimidating energy.

Suddenly, your attention faltered after a redhead approached your crew of huddled up residents. “Hey, I’m Dr. McKay, I’ll show you around the place, let you meet some of your new coworkers, all the fun stuff.” Shifting your gaze to the older woman’s back as she led you through the department, gesturing to separate rooms with designated purposes, you couldn’t shake your mind of the dark eyes you had just met.

Circling back to the main area after the tour you were just given, McKay started to send off overwhelmed residents to assist nearby doctors who had their hands full with a bloodied patient. “And..I guess you’re with me,” she said dully, nodding to you.

“We need some help over here!” A voice exclaimed as a severely wounded patient was wheeled to the empty room just behind you. The redhead swoops her bangs out of the way and gives a false smile, “perfect timing.” Following her to the room, a swarm of new faces trail in behind you. The few nurses and physicians all frantically describe the details of this patient’s injuries while McKay simultaneously tends to the gruesome injuries and asks you questions to test your knowledge. “Shards of glass impaling the abdomen and fractured right patella..what’s our first move?”

Your medical school knowledge was ready to fall off the tip of your tongue before that familiar-faced woman strutted in, snapping on her gloves, causing all of your thoughts to lodge in your throat. “Gotta be quicker than that. Santos, why don’t you inform our new resident here of what our first order of business should be for this fella,” Mckay blurted out before you could recollect your words.

“Assesment of the airway, breathing, and circulation first. Classic ABC’s, newbie, come on,” huffed out the woman you were mesmerized by earlier. Santos. “Showing signs of stability and no peritonitis, he’s set for a CT scan to determine the depth of the glass penetration.” Her criticizing cadence jolted you back into place. Orders from McKay and the other employees went through one ear and out the other. Straightening your posture, almost performatively to catch Santos’s attention, you cleared your throat and got to work.

☤ 7:45 AM ☤

Thrashing the cubicle curtain to the side, you borderline threw yourself out of the room once your job was over. The stress and uneasiness in that compact space managed to turn your blood cold. You just barely got a deep breath of some fresh air in (well, as fresh as hospital air could get) when a shoulder bumped into yours, emitting a startled gasp from your lungs. “Not half bad in there, newbie.” A low voice whizzed past you. That small ponytail bobbed in front of you. Santos grinned back to you, a warm feeling in your lower stomach churned. “I-is every moment in this hospital going to be like this?” You flinched out. Embarrassment took over as you noticed Santos’s eyebrows lifting at your unwavering tone. “Yep. Better get used to it if you want to survive,” she said, pursing her lips. You analyzed her unimpressed expression, green eyes and plush lips drawing you in. You wanted to shadow her, follow her in and out of this entanglement of rooms, feel her body warmth..

What are you doing? You were supposed to be wrapped up in the excitement of your first day of residency, but all your mind could seem to drift off to was this cold doctor. You let out a hum from your pursed lips, attempting to formulate up a response to carry on the conversation just to hear her voice again. “Are you um, also a resident or a doc–”

Santos fell back into her chair at the front desk, bringing your words to a halt all with her eye roll that seemed to be powerful enough to shake the whole building. “Listen, I don’t usually talk to rookies, so..” She flung her hands toward the keyboard of a computer to presumably catch up on charting. Her annoyance left a bad taste in your mouth. Offended, you sunk into your shoulders, eyes to the white tile below you, muttering out a “sorry.”

Santos eyed you up and down, tilting her head, green eyes rolling back to her brain once again. This time it wasn’t irritation, her features seemed to relax into something gentler. She sighed out as if it was the most excruciating task to feel even a grain of remorse. “Listen. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole,” she cleared her throat awkwardly, clearly humiliated to express any sort of apology. You lifted your head up from the ground to be met with her eyes, which flitted away from yours. “But..yes. Yes, this place is what I like to call the 7th ring of hell,” her mouth fixed into a half-grin as you chuckled at the snarky remark.

“Oh come on Santos, the pitt’s not all that bad. Maybe just the 6th ring of hell.” There it was. That voice you were dreading to hear ever since your first tedious job of plucking out bloody fragments of glass from a body sliced the clouds of tension between you and Santos right in half. McKay looked down at her clipboard, tapping a pen against the surface, assumingly brainstorming where to send you off to next. Sure enough, she waved her hand to the right, motioning towards a concerned group of doctors. “Robby and Whitaker are cooped up with an unconscious, concussed 9 year old over there. Go see what you can help with.” You nodded in response, finding it difficult to pick your feet up and walk away from Santos, who you strangely felt a newfound connection with. Flashing the brunette a last glance before jogging to the doctors you’ve yet to meet, you bit down on your lip, cheeks sure to be cherry-red as she yelled an encouraging..or sarcastic, “You got this, newbie.”

Newbie. What was with her and this nickname? Was it meant to be endearing? Insulting? You couldn’t tell with her aloof retorts and cold-blooded attitude.

☤ 1:30 PM ☤

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes for what felt like the past 100 hours. Patient after patient, critique after critique, you were sure that your body couldn’t handle all this stress. You’ve witnessed more gruesome freak accidents in 5 hours than you could have ever imagined for your first shift on the job. Your hands shook as you stepped outside of your last patient’s surgery, ripping off the blue trauma gown that had been splattered with blood and other fluids you didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about. Your colleague, Ogilvie, who you assumed would be just as distraught as you, approached alongside you. His demeanor was much more relaxed, a gleam in his eyes that told you he was hyped up for his next case. Self doubt washed over you. God, were you the only first-day resident who felt this overpowering pressure looming over them. Were you even cut out for this?

 The tall, formidable, doctor Robinavitch exited, cracking his neck and sighing in relief. His tired eyes averted between you and Ogilvie, standing there together. The experienced doctor noticed your ‘scared puppy’ presence. “Hey uh..” He paused, squinting his eyes to dial in on your name tag to remember your name, “You weren’t too bad in there, just be less tense. Stay calm kid, nobody likes a tense doctor.” Nodding, your voice cracked with a light, “Got it. Thank you.” Nurse Evans, who always seemed to be calling for Robby, howled out his name, emitting a slow blink from him. “Can never catch a break in this place, huh? Oh and you,” his gloved finger pointed towards Ogilvie, “great work.” Robby twisted around on his feet and stole his attention away from the two of you towards the charge nurse. 

Defeated, you trudged back to the center of the department, finding Santos in the same exhausted boat. “Ah, Ogilvie, newbie, have you guys decided on switching careers yet?”

“No,” your blond colleague replied with an expressionless face as if he didn't quite catch the sarcasm.

Newbie. That word ricocheted through your brain. Insecurity already having you paranoid, you couldn't help but snap. “Why does he get to be called by his name, and I’m newbie?” Does everyone here think you’re not fit for this opportunity you worked so hard for? Santos’s eyebrows raised at the clear attitude present in your voice. “Relax. It’s just a thing I do with people I..tolerate,” Santos observed you with those same intimidating eyes, voice falling to almost a mumble.

“Do you even know my real name?” you retorted. Dropping the clipboard she had clutched in one hand on the center desk, the brunette’s unreadable face held onto your gaze as she briskly walked up to you. Inches away from you, face-to-face, her body warmth made you shiver. Noticing your breath hitch, she smirked and let out a mocking, hushed laugh. Her hand raised to grasp the name tag that dangled from your scrub-clad chest. Trailing her eyes slowly, teasingly, Santos read your name. “Now I do,” she released the nametag, letting it snap back against you.

“Got two coming in, serious car accident. I need hands!” EMTs and nurses rushed about, reminding you of the hectic setting of the hospital. The two of you stood there in each other’s warmth for a quarter second before splitting up, ready to get your hands dirty. 

☤ 7:00 PM ☤

The cold breeze wafted against your skin while you rested your head against the brick outer wall of the hospital you would soon call your second home. You exhaled, a moment of peace for the first time in 12 hours. You knew this moment would soon end and you’d have to throw yourself back into the chaos.

The side doors opened to the left of you, not catching your attention, as you assumed it was just another patient leaving that hellish place. Instead, a figure appeared leaning on the wall beside you. You recognized who it was just from the little brunette ponytail and the black scrubs that hugged her figure just right. “Rough first day?” Santos asked, eyes boring into the side of your face. “Yeah..overwhelming to say the least,” a sigh trailed from your lips as you turned around to face her.

“Well, you’re not the first one to doubt yourself on day one. Trust me, you get used to it.”

“Hm, well, I hope so,” your eyebrows raised in hopeless sarcasm.

“How are you going to celebrate the end of your first shift, newbie?” Her eyes shifted down to the concrete. “Uh, probably get into something more comfortable and..” Before you could finish your thought, Santos interjected, “Would you want to go get a drink tonight instead? There’s a bar just down the road from here.” An embarrassed cadence overtook her, for what seemed like the first time ever. Confused, you tilted your head and let a breathy snort escape your nose. Santos led on with this tough, emotionless act all day. She didn’t actually want to be more than your coworker who gave you some dumb nickname..did she? “No, yeah dumb fucking question, sorry,” Santos whispered to the chilled Pittsburgh air, just barely audible enough for you to hear. Her shoes beneath her scraped the concrete as she swiftly pushed herself off the wall to head back inside.

You threw your hand out to grasp her wrist, appalled at how quickly her mood could shift. Behind this callous facade she would put on every day within the confines of the hospital, there was a sensitive center. It was cute, honestly. “Santos, wait. That sounds great, actually,” you said. Her ponytail swung as she turned to meet your gaze, features softening in relief. She gulped in regret at her dramatic response just seconds ago, now returning with a calmer manner. “Okay, sounds like a plan. Meet in this spot after our shift?”

You plainly nodded, already feeling your cheeks burning red. Taking in her features one last time before returning through the doors and finishing the last home stretch of your shift, your heart raced. It was undeniable how attractive she was. She felt your eyes lingering on her plush lips. On a whim, you took one step closer, just far enough to feel her warm breath hitting your skin. You snagged on her nametag and brought it to your eyes, Trinity. “See you then, Trin,” the nickname rolled off your tongue as you tried to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she glared. In sync, the two of you headed back inside, deliberately brushing up against each other every few strides.

☤ 10:00 PM ☤

Your change of clothes fell loose out of your locker as you swung the door open. The crop top and jeans you held firm in your hands didn’t scream bar attire. You pursed your lips, assuming your chance at impressing Trinity was already over before it began.

Your hands nervously played with the hem of your loose crop top as you stood out in the darkness waiting for your date. “Wow, didn’t know you could clean up so nice after a 15 hour shift,” the low voice crept up on you from behind. Running her hands through her hair that was now let down, Trinity strolled up to you. Her t-shirt and cargo pants didn’t restrict her from carrying herself in such an intimidating manner the same way she did in those form-fitting scrubs. “Oh, it was just something I threw on this morning,” you breathed out, unable to handle the compliment without a heat rushing to your lower stomach. “Still pretty.” 

Tension thick in the air of the cab, you couldn’t help but steal secret side glances at her as she kept her eyes on the road through the window.

The dim-lit bar smelled of smoke and cologne. To your surprise, there were quite a few recognizable faces scattered about. Slamming down shot classes and beer glasses, some of your coworkers didn’t bother changing out of their scrubs. Trinity gestured for the two of you to have a seat at the bar. She grabbed the leather covered stool and pulled it closer to the one you climbed atop of. Facing each other, your knees collided with hers, but neither of you dared to move. The brushing of her legs against yours distracted you from the bartender that approached, asking what you’d like to drink. Forgetting about drinks entirely, you distraughtly replied, “I’ll do whatever she’s having.” Crossing her arms over the sticky wooden counter, Trinity cooly answered, “Two gin and cokes. And put those on my tab.” She turned back to face you, analyzing your face as you huffed out an embarrassed, “you didn’t have to pay.” She ran her hand through her hair and smirked, “I wanted to.”

With a few sips of your drink to warm your body, conversations and jokes ran smoothly between you two. Her straightforward flirting and usual sarcasm never failed to make you blush and bolt over giggling, hand flying to grab her shoulder. As conversations fell more personal, you listened to each other intently, eager to know every last detail of each other. With each sentence and inquiry flying from your mouths, your hands started to gravitate towards each other. Her hand subtly fell on top of yours within moments. Your body froze, chest pounding, thighs shifting to squeeze together to suppress a pooling heat you tried to ignore. Her eyes lingered on yours, silently signalling her intentions. You don't know what allowed you to muster up the confidence but, your other hand rose to push back a loose strand of her deep brown hair behind her ear. Maybe this was your way of wordlessly communicating what your intentions with her were too. Trinity smirked and grabbed her glass to throw back one last sip of her drink. Barely phased by the sour tang of the gin, she wiped her mouth and spoke, “Huckleberry won’t be in the apartment tonight.”

“Sorry, you live with Whitaker?” you spat out a laugh, imagining their dynamic. Whitaker was so welcoming and patient, while Trinity was the complete opposite. “Unfortunately. So..” She waited on your response at her indirect invitation to her apartment. You knew if you said yes the two of you wouldn’t be able to stop yourselves. Imaginations of the two of you kissing and ripping each other's clothes off flooded your mind. The thoughts excited you, pushing you to blurt out, “Yes, t-take me to your place.” She smirked at your eagerness, waving down the bartender to close the tab.

The cab back to Trinity’s apartment building felt endless. Sitting in the back of the car, the two of you couldn't stop twiddling with each other’s thumbs and bumping shoulders in tense silence.

You gripped onto the sleeve of her shirt, chin resting on her shoulder as she led you to the front door of her empty home. Shifting your face into her smooth hair, Trinity twisted the key in the doorknob excruciatingly slow. The two of you knew that as soon as you succumbed yourselves to the privacy of the apartment, frantic hands would explore each other’s bodies. In swift motions, the door pushed open and slammed shut to have you pushed up against the wall inside the chilled interior. Trinity rested her hands on the wall beside your head, leaning in, biting her lip, waiting. You lifted off the wall slightly just to lean more into her warmth. You licked your lips and pressed them against hers. In heated moments, the two of you were kissing messily with fervor. Your hands found her waist, tugging at the shirt restricting you from the smooth skin underneath. The doctor’s once daunting character faltered into something desperate and needy for your touch. Pulling away from the careless kiss, Trinity’s eyes gleamed in the dark as she looked at your chest that heaved with anxiousness. The spit string that connected the two of your mouths snapped as she bit her lip before speaking. “Do you wanna uh..” she mumbled breathlessly, tilting her head in a direction you could only assume was her bedroom. You nodded and stumbled back into her, those warm lips colliding back with yours.

She shut the door of her cozy room, a dim lamp in the corner of the room highlighting all of her features that made your stomach twist with butterflies. You walked backwards, knees buckling against the edge of the bed, causing you to fall against the plush sheets. Trinity sauntered up to you, looking down with a hungry look in her eyes. You opened your legs that were just squeezed shut to conceal the wet patch growing in your underwear to allow her to fit herself in between them. She maintained her gaze, still standing with you below her. Your hands ran over her waist, just under her shirt’s hemline, hauling it up to reveal more of her flawless figure to you. The brunette finished the job for you and grabbed her shirt to tug it off and throw it somewhere behind her. A low grumble escaped from your mouth at the sight of her black, lacy bra confining her perfect chest. She noticed your admiration and pushed you to fall backwards on top of the bed, chuckling out a, “Do you know what you’re doing, newbie?”

“No, not really. Maybe I can learn from you, Dr. Santos,” you mumbled, hands trailing to the nape of her neck as she leaned over you. “Just Trinity. At least here now, call me Trinity,” her lips brushed over yours while she sneakily reached down to unzip the fly of your jeans. “Is this okay?” Trinity whispered, playing with the thin fabric of your underwear. You nodded your head desperately, the heat in your center was overwhelming. Your mind was fogged with a need to feel release. Suddenly, the comforting touch of her palms fiddling with the hem of your underwear disappeared. “Uh uh, tell me.” The vibrations of her words tickled your lips, now smeared with the mixing of your lipgloss and her subtle lipstick. Her teasing only made you wetter. “Please,” you groaned into her mouth, hands tangling in her hair.

Once she heard your needy plea, Trinity pulled your pants down with a force that made you gasp. Her hands hooked the hem of your underwear and peeled them off of you. Your cheeks grew red at the realization that you were bare, exposed to your coworker you had just met hours ago. She trailed wet kisses from your neck to your chest over your shirt. Dragging her palms up your stomach to push up the crop top, revealing more of your smooth skin, your hands gripped her hair in impatience. Slow kisses led down to your thighs, the sensitive areas that made you bite down on your lip. Trinity noticed your fingers gripping her hair harder, knowing she made you grow needier by the second.

Finally giving in, she licked a small stripe in between your thighs, drawing a sigh of relief from you. Her hands found their way around your thighs, short nails digging into the smooth skin. Her tongue made its way to where you needed her most, eliciting an airy whine from you as she shoved her face farther into your center. Closing her lips around your clit, your hand flew up from her silky hair to close around your mouth, suppressing the humiliating grunts you couldn’t hold back. Looking down at her head snug between your legs, you caught her eyes drilling into your face, watching every reaction you had. She giggled into you, noticing how you averted your attention from her to the ceiling out of embarrassment. The heat welling up in your abdomen caused you to jut your hips up, seeking for some sense of release. The doctor circled the area that made you cry out with her tongue more intently now, overwhelming you and the feeling that took over your body. Hands frantic to find anything to hold onto, your back arched as you sang out, “God, Trinity.” Hearing her name from your mouth only made her flatten her tongue against your heat harder, a wet spot forming in her underwear at the thought of making you finish beneath her. The deep pressure that took over your body came to an end as you spilled over the edge with a loud groan. Your back fell flat against her sheets, chest heaving with exhaustion and pleasure. It only took seconds before her face appeared over yours, beads of sweat causing her messy hair to stick to her forehead. You pulled her in by the neck for a long kiss.

Humiliation swamped your mind again as you noticed her pants still on up against you. You needed those off. Your desire to make her finish as strongly as you did overtook you. Maintaining your kissing in heavy breaths, in one quick motion you flipped her over. Arms planting beside her shoulders, you brought your head up to stare at her beneath you. With those expressive green eyes and pursed pink lips, she held up that intimidating manner even laying under you. You fumbled with the buttons of her pants, struggling to pull them off her as smoothly as she pulled yours off. You muttered a wimpy, “sorry,” as you gulped and slowly peeled off her underwear. “Don’t be so nervous. I just made you cum,” her fingers grazed up your spine, a laugh at her own words threatened to escape her mouth. “Shut up. I’ve..never done this before,” your palms slapped your face in an attempt to mask your awkwardness. Pulling your arms away to intertwine her fingers with yours, she smiled and brushed a piece of your hair that hung over her behind your ear. “I’ll guide you.”

Trinity’s warm hand hovered over yours, carefully moving it from her chest to in between her legs. You bit your lip as you discovered how wet she had been this entire time. Your fingers found her entrance, slowly entering two of them until her eyelids fluttered shut. Back arching up, her body pressed into yours as you slid yourself further into her. Trinity’s mouth fell open. You began picking up your pace watching her fall apart beneath you. “Faster,” she stuttered out, hands reaching to grasp your wrist. Driving your fingers quicker in and out of her, the sounds of her wetness against your hands in motion pulled a moan out of your agape mouth. Her head pushed farther back into the soft sheets. With every thrust, you curled your fingers to hit the deep spot within her that caused her nails to dig into your back. “Fuck,” Trinity grumbled under her breath. Steadying your gaze on her beneath you, Trinity’s movements became more spasmic and uncontrollable. You felt smooth thighs shuddering around your hand, pleasure surging through her veins. Pulling your fingers out of her to witness the arousal that coated them, she rolled her eyes back in embarrassment at how apparent it was that she needed you more than anything in this moment. You only allowed yourself to revel at the sight for a moment before plunging back into her, sending the overpowering sensation built up between her legs to release. She slammed backwards onto the bed with a high-pitched moan, so different from her usual monotone voice.

Her eyes opened, glazed over with ecstasy. Plopping down beside your counterpart, your sweaty body found hers. Trinity turned to face you, that typical indifferent expression overtook her face once again. “Fuck, newbie, where’d you learn how to do that?” You rolled your eyes at the nickname she was so quick to give you every chance she got, even after you just hooked up with her. You observed the tattoos on her arms as she wrapped them around you, pulling you in. In the dim light, you laid there with Trinity, who you’d known only as ‘Dr. Santos’ for most of the day beforehand, circling light touches around the ink on her arms. “Stay here for the night,” she whispered into your hair, heavy eyelids threatening to close.

[50shadesofchrome]

Date with a Hero

Supergirl x Fem!Reader

Summary: When your ever-so-confident coworker, Kara Danvers, asks you out on a date on a particularly bad day at work, you excitedly found yourself eager to present yourself as perfect to her. That ecstasy subsided when she just up and left you with no explanation at the bar. Scrambling to understand her sudden disappearance, little did you know she had a very reasonable excuse..

18+/MDNI

Warnings: fluff, kissing

wc: 4000

Hustling through the front doors of that colossal skyscraper that was basically your second home, your files of notes flew out from under your arm. Already late for your shift, you bent down dramatically to pick up your messy papers, spilling the boiling coffee in your hand onto your pant leg and papers beneath you. “Shit,” you yelped a little too loudly, burning liquid dribbling down your ankle, pooling into your heels. Sighing out, you gathered up the now soaked notes, illegible with brown stains smearing the pen ink. Silence fell over the massive lobby, employees and secretaries eyeing you scrambling to recover yourself. As you lifted yourself off the ground, now sticky with useless documents that took you hours to type out, your eyes scanned the judgment on everyone’s faces. “Thanks for the help, assholes,” you muttered under your breath, strolling to the elevator. Heels sending an echoey click clack through the open room, you could already hear your boss’s scolding tangent at the sight of your ruined work. Already overdue for clocking in, there would surely be no time to reprint all of your precious papers. The embarrassment in your chest subsided a little as the elevator dinged open, allowing a smaller, emptier room for you to surround yourself in before the door would open again to the opposite environment.

A young intern whizzed past you, a tower of papers in his hands, probably heading to the ever-demanding Cat Grant’s office. Your coworkers, all in sleek business wear, rushed around the floor, busying themselves with new article ideas. Everyone was especially busy and frantic this past week, new monsters and evil CEO’s planning on taking over National City were abundant, but all taken care of immediately by Supergirl. Lately, the hero was working overtime to keep the community safe, sending CatCo workers into a tabloid-producing frenzy. Stepping towards your desk, a raspy voice yelled behind you, “Stepped in a muddy puddle today I see.” Looking down at your leg, you winced noticing the coffee stain being more noticeable than before. “I’ve had a bad morning Danvers, now’s not the time,” You eyed the smirking blonde woman in the eye, chucking your now empty coffee cup in the little plastic trash bin under your desk. “Six dollars down the drain,” you exhaled, gaze averting from the cup to your crinkled, brown papers you had just slammed onto the desk. Kara, in her form fitted, navy blue dress, strutted up to your cubicle. Shuffling through your notes, she snickered, “Yeah, Cat’s not going to be happy about that.” You pursed your lips and slouched into your chair. Noticing your stress at this early hour, she clicked her tongue, trying a different approach, “What if I offered to buy you a coffee some time..off the clock?” An eyebrow involuntarily raised, huffing out a laugh, you didn’t understand her intentions. “You’re sweet Ms. Danvers, but let’s keep this professional,” you joked, not thinking that your witty coworker might want to actually take things a step farther than being platonic. 

“Why not?” Her tone suddenly shifted to something more shaky and genuine. You paused, head tilting up from your desk to the girl leaning on your cubicle wall. She bit at her lip, pushing her glasses up her button nose before crossing her arms tightly against her chest. “What–like what do you mean, you want to take me out for a date or something?”

“Kind of..yeah,” Kara gulped, patting at her dress and adjusting her claw clip, holding up her silky hair, doing anything to avoid eye contact with you. You rarely saw her nervous, she was always so quick to charm Cat with a flattering compliment or jest (which wasn’t an easy thing to do). Mouth falling open, dry without a prepped response, Cat swung her office dorm and screeched out, “I need those LutherCorp articles, now.” Slumping your head into your hands, all of your thoughts regarding Kara’s awkward attempt at asking you out faded away. You could almost envision yourself clearing out your desk, sobbing to your parents on the phone that you’d just been fired. “Good luck, maybe she’ll understand.” Your coworker’s hand found itself cupping your shoulder, sending a minuscule wave of hope through your body. Using all your might to push up out of the rolling chair and take careful steps to your boss’s office, tears already threatened to flood your cheeks.

Cat typed melodramatically on her computer waiting for your arrival. “Finally, we need the deets on LutherCorp ASAP.” The prissy bleach blond didn’t even look up from her computer as you softly shut the door behind you. 

“Um..about that Ms.Grant..” You struggled to croak out.

“Don’t tell me any of those bitchy LutherCorp employees denied you an interview,” Cat continued mindlessly watching her computer screen.

“I did the work, I swear, but uh,” your voice faded out as you slid the crumpled, grimy stack on her desk towards her. Straying away from your professional tone you tried to upkeep, pleads and desperate excuses fled from your mouth before she could even process the unreadable papers. “I’m sorry, I was a mess this morning. I spilled coffee on it and I wasn’t paying attention and–” Your cracked voice bounced off the glass walls of her hopefully sound proof office. Shutting her laptop to meet you with an unimpressed stare, she cleared her throat and began, “How could you be so careless? These reports are crucial–” Shutting your eyes, you expected her to kick you to the curb. Cat Grant was never understanding when it came to making mistakes. 

Before she could finish her disappointed reprimand, the glass door behind you almost shattered with the force of which it was flung open. “Ms. Grant, she left her extra copies on my desk,” an out of breath, familiar voice disrupted your train of thought. “Kara, you can’t just walk in here like that,” Cat’s hand flew to slap her own forehead in annoyance. As Kara stepped up in front of you, tight dress riding up her toned thighs, she handed your boss a stack of freshly white copies, exact replicas of your work before the coffee-spilling incident just moments ago. In awe, you couldn't understand how your coworker was able to print all of that out in a matter of minutes. You watched Cat’s eyebrow raise while flipping through the overwhelming amount of reports, like a statue, all words and movements disconnected from your body. “I guess you’re off the hook this time. You’re extremely lucky you had extra copies. Oh and..go clean yourself up,” she motioned toward your half brown pant leg before opening her laptop back up to turn her thoughts away from you. Your chest heaved, tension releasing from your body, “T-thank you, Ms. Grant.”

Kara and you lurched to the door exiting Cat’s stuffy office, side by side. Leaning your head into her ear, you whispered, “I owe you one, big time.” Her face formed an upturned smile while pulling her glasses off her face to chew on the arms. “How about you owe me that date?” You completely forgot about the uneasy interaction the two of you had before Cat called you in. Kara had always drawn your attention on the floor, her witty comments and toothy grin were refreshing. There was always a busy assignment Cat sent you to complete, guaranteeing to cut off your distracting thoughts of Kara, or any thoughts of romance for that matter. Reality sinking in, your heart raced with excitement. The star reporter, Kara Danvers, whose beauty and allure couldn't be ignored by anyone on the floor, took an interest in you. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” you attempted a nonchalant demeanor, pushing down an eager smile. “Great, are you free tonight?” she faced you, just as you reached your designated cubicle again. “Looks like I’ll have to check my schedule,” you huffed out sarcastically, gaze travelling from her icy blue eyes to your nonexistent watch on your wrist. Flopping into your chair, you twisted to face your keyboard, “Looks like I can squeeze you in tonight.” Kara threw her head forward in a snort, hand propped on the top of the paper-thin wall that surrounded your desk. She adjusted her glasses to sit higher up on her nose once again, that little nerdy appeal you seemed to not notice as much before creating butterflies in your lower stomach. “Perfect. Meet me at Al’s. 6:30,” The blond swiveled away to the opposite direction, heels tapping against the floor as she headed to her own desk. Pausing before you lost sight of her, she turned her head ninety degrees, just enough to allow you to hear her clever, “and maybe..wear something less brown.”

You rolled your eyes, face heating up with a visible red flush that you'd hoped she wasn’t able to catch. This shitty morning turned into a more tranquil day at work, all because of Kara’s lifesaving ability to print out papers at record-breaking speeds. On a usual shift, your hands would have already felt sore from the sheer amount of words you can type out with an unrelenting focus. Today, your eyes lingered on Kara’s side profile, biting her pen and furrowing her brows in a brainstorm. LutherCorp was the farthest thing on your mind right now, a blank document was depicted on your computer screen as you daydreamed about your date with Kara later.

It looked almost as if a tornado had hit your apartment, the way half of your wardrobe was sporadically draped across your furniture. Gripping your hair in frustration, it appeared as if every piece of clothing you had come across was business casual dresses and pantsuits strictly for work. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually dressed up nice to go out. Finally coming across something semi-cute, you called it a day and just hoped Kara would find you as attractive as you found her in anything you threw on.

Popping your freshly glossed lips in the mirror, your phone screen lit up on the countertop below, and the “6:12 PM” screamed at you. Sighing out and wiggling the tension out of your body, you made your way to the door, ready to be welcomed to a new side of Kara Danvers.

The mood-lit bar was loud with rock music and the cracking sounds of pool table balls being jutted by bikers and alternative National City citizens. Browsing the rustic interior, you forgot for a split moment to not look for the shapely figure dressed in professional attire. A familiar head of blonde waves stuck out to you at the bar. Almost as if she sensed your presence, Kara twisted around in the little leather stool, meeting eyes with you. Smiling, she awkwardly pushed her glasses up the thin bridge of her nose, glasses of a brown liquid in both her hands. Strutting up to you in a low-cut white shirt, clad with a brown leather jacket, she held out the drinks far away from her body to not clumsily spill them on her jeans. “Never seen you in something else besides your corporate dresses, this looks good on you,” you greeted her, a snarky facade concealing your nervousness. “Well, hello to you, too. You don’t look too bad yourself.” Eyes lingering on your exposed legs for a second too long, Kara hesitated before pushing a glass towards you, “I didn’t know what you liked to drink, so I just got us both Jack and Cokes.”

“You’re a saint.” Your fingertips grazed hers as you clutched onto the glass, catching you off guard before you shakingly continued, “After the morning I’ve had. God, I still can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t sweat it. I was just helping out my favorite coworker..I got a table for us, come on,” Kara reached her free hand out to tug onto your arm, her striking grip strength seemed unnatural on her, with a slim figure and that innocent gleam in her bright eyes. Leading you to the only table with a candle and white fabric tablecloth, you raised your eyebrows in appreciation. “Wow, you went all out, Danvers,” you let the words slide off your tongue as smoothly as you slid into the booth seat in front of her. “I didn’t know you’d still be charming outside of work, too?” You did, in fact, know that she'd be able to sweep you off your feet anywhere else besides that towering CatCo building. She swiped a piece of her blond hair that seemed to glow even in the dim bar lighting behind her, biting her lip. “Yeah, well, I do a lot of things outside of work,” Kara sipped from her glass, a slight grimace apparent on her face, still not used to the tang of the alcohol. “Tell me,” interested in how her confident self carried through every part and hobby of her life.

A never-ending, ricocheting conversation discussing each other's interests and hobbies flowed for a few minutes before a waiter approached your table. “Have you guys decided what you wanted?” Looking at each other with a blank stare, the two of you had completely forgotten to even consider food. On a whim, you picked the first thing that caught your eye off the sticky menu, “Uh..I'll do the fettuccine alfredo, please.” Truthfully, you didn’t care what you ate at that moment, you just wanted to spend the night talking to Kara, mouth full of words, not food. “And I’ll have the same as her,” Kara sent you a wink while ordering, sending a frenzy of warm feelings to your abdomen.

The waiter shuffled away, leaving the two of you in a silence, staring into each other's dilated pupils. Whether yours or Kara’s eyes were blown out from the overbearing light above the table, or from the sheer admiration for each other, you didn’t know how you missed out on the bliss of looking into the deep blueness of hers all this time. Biting her bottom lip, she broke eye contact by tilting her head down to grab her glass and swivel the last few sips of alcohol around, awkwardly. This was the first time her confidence faltered around you, somehow making you more hypnotized by her charm. “You know, Kara, I didn’t think I could like you this much so fast.” Mindlessly, that name, Kara, rolled off your tongue so easily. In the workplace, it was a common gag to call each other strictly by your last names. She looked up, taking in your smirking expression. 

Her matte pink, lipsticked-covered lips separated on the edge of responding, until she paused to grab her phone from her back pocket. Glaring at the screen, she grimaced and stuttered out, “I-I have to go.” She slammed her glass down on the table before clumsily shuffling out of the booth. “What? Kar-Danvers. Is everything okay–?” Jarred and confused, your voice cracked with insecurity. Was it too much? You didn’t think a first-name basis would scare her off. “I’m sorry, it’s an emergency, really!” She fished out a few crumpled bills from her back pocket and dropped them on the table before striding to the bar’s exit doors. Shouting out a last, “I’m sorry,” Kara didn’t even meet your eyes once more as she raced out the door without an explanation. God, you were an idiot, you thought. Maybe you shouldn’t have told her you liked her so early into the date. The first date, in fact.

The violent overhead light that gleamed across Kara’s face in front of you now seemed to glare irritably in your eyes as you stayed seated at the table, in shock. Heart sunken, the waiter approached you at the wrong moment with two plates of delicious-looking pasta. A confused look on his face, he set one of the dishes on Kara’s side of the table, “Uh you..two enjoy.” Your stomach churned, and not with the butterflies Kara gave you moments before. You nodded a thank you in the waiter’s direction, picking up a fork to play around in the saucy noodles, appetite too far gone. Unable to sit and ignore your coworker’s urgent runaway, you gulped and lifted from the warm-cushioned booth under you. The crumpled dollars Kara tossed before her disappearance sat still on the edge of the table as you walked outside to the city’s nightlife.

In the distant horizon, a Godzilla-esque monster grunted as two thin laser beams protruded from a small floating figure in the sky, pelting its reptilian skin. Supergirl. Frozen civilians around the outlets of businesses stood, mouth agape, watching Supergirl use her natural finesse to protect the city. In any other circumstance, you would’ve been another sheep in the crowd, dialing in on the superhero’s ability to take down such a beast. The solemn graveness in your heart forced you to keep your head down and continue picking up your feet to locate a cab.

Huffing out a disappointed exhale as you jammed your key into your rundown apartment’s door, you checked your phone by instinct, hoping a message from Kara would appear. A second exhale escaped as you were welcomed to the storm of clothing on every piece of furniture you owned. Unbothered, you lobbed your keys on the kitchen counter and sauntered to your couch. The leather-clad couch felt cold against your legs as you plopped down. Unwillingly, tears broke free from your eyes and waterfalled down your face, streaks of foundation and concealer disappearing with the droplets. You scrambled for the television remote on the cushion beside you, flickering between channels on the big screen in front of you, doing anything to have your mind on something else besides the incredible failure that was your date. Zoning into the sitcom ahead, the blurriness in your eyes began to subside. Checking your phone one last time, the screen lit up with a blank screensaver, no notification from Kara in sight. With pursed lips and squinted eyes, you thought to yourself fuck her, seriously fuck h- 

  A knock at your..door? No, the window–halted your thoughts entirely. Jolting upwards from the indent in your couch, you briskly turned your head to the glass wall that acted as a barrier between you and National City’s night sky that overlooked the various buildings and traffic lights below. Blond hair and a red cape flowing in the wind behind the window startled you. The infamous “S” symbol across the figure’s chest seemed like a dream. Why would Supergirl be knocking at your window? Without wasting a second, you flipped the latch and used all your might to lift the old, worn-out glass up an inch. The girl, miraculously standing on air, used one hand to pull the rest of the window up, without even an ounce of struggle in her demeanor. Climbing through the open space, red boots clomped onto the creaky apartment floor in front of you. Several confused thoughts washed through your brain, zero words were able to release themselves from your throat. The perfect-looking woman brushed hair from her face and smiled at you, “You didn’t think I would miss out on our date like that, did you?”

“What?”

“I was really looking forward to kicking your ass in pool after we ate–”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m sorry, Supergirl, is it? I haven’t had the best night,” the lamp light in the corner of the room reflected off the hero’s shiny, golden belt into your eyes.

“Listen, it’s me, Kara. Nobody can know.”

You snorted out a tired laugh, immediately in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” the woman in the tight, navy blue suit that hugged her figure just right, gulped nervously. Looking at her features more intently, you recognized those striking blue eyes and that button nose a little more clearly now. Refreshing your memories, Kara's quick charm, wit, and strength all made sense now. “I told you I had an emergency, that dinosaur thing really wore me out,” she chuckled out, flattening out her short, red skirt, which mimicked the way Kara anxiously swirled her glass around to avoid an awkward gaze during your date. That final touch convincing you, a cracked, “Danvers,” slipped through your lips. A chilling breeze through the window wafted against your skin as she stepped closer, toned legs above those tight boots catching your sight. “Yeah..I liked it when you called me Kara better,” cupping your face as she inched close to you, body heat suppressing the frigid winds from the outside. The last sight you saw before closing your eyes and welcoming her lips to yours was that sly grin she would always shoot at you in the office. Warm mouth overlapping onto yours, a soft, audible sigh left her mouth. You were quick to clutch onto her hips, that well-known suit pressed against your fingertips. Kara slid her hands to the back of your head, tightening her grip around your hair. Her tongue made its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your nails dug into her sides, pulling her chest against yours. You couldn't believe you had Supergirl in your arms, let alone so whipped for you.

Her gentle hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shoving you backwards farther into your living room. Lips staying clamped together, the vibrations of her soft moans traveled through your mouth. The back of your knees hit the plush leather of the couch, causing you to stumble backwards into the same position you were before Kara had knocked at your window. The desperate woman climbed atop your lap, bare thighs wrapping around your legs, cape draping down to the floor. With a sudden lurch away from your grasp, the saliva string that connected the two of you snapped. “You can’t tell anyone–" she spewed swiftly in a shaky voice, which you cut off with a roll of the eyes and a quick peck. “I won’t tell, I promise. Plus, I want Supergirl all to myself,” you muttered close enough to her, to where your lips brushed against her pink ones. Kara nudged up against you, pushing you deeper into the couch. Her metallic “S” plate felt cold against your chest through your thin shirt. Before she could encapsulate your lips again, you pursed your lips and eyed her. “Can I ask how you knew where I lived?” She clicked her tongue and ran a smooth hand down your neck, easily distracting you from your own question. Your breath hitched as a confident voice, a clone of her classic tone she would use with you at the office let go a, “I have my ways.” Of course Supergirl has “her ways.”

The tip of her nose brushed against yours as the two of you sunk into each other once again. Your tongue dared to enter her mouth this time, eliciting a small grumble from the superhero. You wrapped your hands all the way around her small back under that crimson cape, not wanting to free yourself from this moment ever. Kara began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses from your cheek to your neck. Lifting your head for easier access, she peeled her eyes open to be met with the messy makeup on the side of your face, understanding that tears were the culprit. She rubbed her thumb over the sticky foundation, smoothing it out. Her mouth opened to obviously ask what happened. “I thought you left our date..because of me.” She sighed out, heartbroken at your response, “I wouldn't leave you high and dry just like that. Never.” With a smile you threw your head back onto the couch, admiring her wandering eyes. “Can I also ask, what’s with all these clothes around here?” Forgetting about the embarrassing disaster around your apartment, your lips quivered, trying to find something snarky to reply with, but all you could muster up was a humiliated, “shut up.” Without questioning anything else, Kara threw her beautiful golden hair to the side, attacking your lips with fervor.

God, you didn’t know how the two of you would approach this at work tomorrow. All you knew at this very moment was that it was so worth it.

[reverieal]

More Than an Interview

★ pairing: corenswet!clark kent x fem!reader ★ summary: you were a star journalist at the daily planet. employed alongside your all-too-proud work crush, clark kent, you naturally despised how easy it was for him to land interviews with superman. after finally convincing him to interview the superhero for you, a collaborative article-turned-shocking-discovery would quickly veer into something neither of you expected. ★ warnings: 18+ MDNI, nsfw sexual content, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, work sex kinda, multiple rounds, friends to lovers ★ word count: 2.6k

“Clark, please,” you whined, jostling his rolling chair around. He didn’t look up from his computer—just raised an eyebrow, used to your dramatics. 

“Please, what?”

“You know what!” You walked around his chair to half-sit on his desk. “I have to get an interview with Superman. Will you please tell me how you keep landing them?” Clark said nothing, smirking into the light cast from his computer screen. His cockiness about this particular subject made you unfathomably angry. Why was he the only one who had an in with Superman? And how on earth was that fair?

“Come on! And here I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends.” Now he glanced up, almost seeming offended by the sarcastic accusation. “Which is why I’m getting you an interview.”

“Wait—What? You are?” You pushed yourself off his desk to inspect his computer screen, planting one hand on the back of his chair and sticking your nose into the monitor.

“Relax, I’m not on a video chat with the guy.” Clark chuckled as you straightened yourself with a roll of your overeager eyes. “And you didn’t let me finish.” “Okay…” you said, almost questioning. “Go on.”

“You’re not… Conducting the interview. I am.”

“What? Then—” He cut you off, answering your question before you could ask it.

“I’ll ask him whatever you want. But it’s my interview.” Your eyes squeezed shut as if remembering he existed for one more second would cause you to become violent. Once you had a hold of your emotions, you opened your eyes to be met with that smug, dimply smirk all over again. He was lucky he was cute. You sighed rather than allowing any insults to make their way past your lips. 

“Why are you so special, anyway? Why do you have to be the one to speak to Superman every time?” The man shrugged, pushing up his glasses. 

“He just likes me, I guess.” That’s it. If you didn’t want to kill this man before, you did now. Before you could protest, he continued. “Besides, you’re still writing the article. We’ll make it a collaborative effort.” Any argument died on your tongue. You wanted to keep pushing so badly, but this was the closest you’d ever gotten to landing anything with Superman himself. It was an opportunity you had to take. You couldn’t say no to Clark Kent’s puppy-dog eyes, anyway, no matter how much you occasionally wanted to shove his head into a brick wall. And maybe. Just maybe, Superman would read your article and realize that you, too, could be trusted to interview him one-on-one. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

The Daily Planet was quiet this time of night. It was a week later, and way past the end of the workday. The only light that illuminated the elegant bullpen was the lamp on Clark’s desk, casting a golden glow on the two of you. You swiveled side to side on your rolling chair, reading the awaited interview with Superman—reading Clark ask him your questions. He shamelessly stared at you, waiting for you to reach the end. Around halfway through, your eyes caught on one specific segment of the transcript.

Clark: Now—Superman, following the events of the LuthorCorp scandal, it’s safe to say the people have a lot of questions.  Superman: [laughs] Can’t say I blame them. Clark: Right—Starting off, how did you know of Lex Luthor’s involvement in the Boravian arms crisis? That’s how you learned of his plot to acquire Jarhanpur, isn’t it? Superman: Right. The information was provided to me by various resources, of which I should unfortunately keep private for anonymity’s sake. Such information led me to believe that I had the authority to act against it.

“What…?” you muttered to yourself. Clark raised an eyebrow. “What?” he echoed. Your eyebrows formed a tight-knit line across your forehead. “That was it? He just marches into battle, all because LutherCorp was giving one of our allies weapons? Who gave him the authority?”

“Billions of dollars worth of weapons—most of which weren’t even accounted for,” Clark reminded, rising to his feet. “What was he supposed to do? Wait for Boravia to take over the country while he goes through the proper channels first?” Clark must have been a superfan, you thought. Why else did he always get so defensive when it came to Superman?

“Kind of…! I mean, what if he was wrong?”

“He wasn’t.” You began to raise your voice. Not with vitriol, not yelling at him. Just pure enthusiasm. “But what if he was? Why would he be so reckless if—”

“Because I knew it was the right thing to do!” Any words vanished in your throat. Clark looked down at you, eyes wide. His voice echoed in your ears long after it stopped bouncing off the marble floors. 

“Because I knew it was the right thing to do.”

“I knew.”

“I. knew.”

“He knew…” Clark finally said, voice no longer raised. He sounded like defeat. Like he’d been outsmarted. A last-ditch effort to save himself. “...Is what I meant.”

“It’s not what you said,” you told him, slowly rising from your chair to inch closer. His eyebrows tented. His expression was almost unreadable, but through the gleam in those bright, blue eyes, he looked scared. He subconsciously leaned back with every soft clack of your heels. Finally, you reached up to gently handle the arms of his glasses. You pulled them off painfully slow. He didn’t pull away. He just stared back into your eyes as you peeled away the one disguise that he kept on for the rest of the world.

And there he was. Glasses off. Exposed, standing bare in front of you.

Superman.

“Holy shit…” You whispered. It was really him. His horrified expression softened at your almost pleased disbelief. Did he think you would be mad? Disappointed? 

He took a step back, just slightly. He spoke in that same low tone as before. “Nobody can know…” He trailed off at the nod of your head. “I know,” you told him. You stepped impossibly closer, feeling the warmth of his body wash over you. He looked down into your eyes, lightly brushing against your sides. He was merely testing the waters before you cannonballed into him, cupping his face softly as you stood up on your tiptoes to reach his lips. His hands planted firmer on your waist, pulling you into him like he wanted to combine the two of you somehow. Your hands snaked around his head to brush into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. You had to pull away first, scared you’d suffocate in his passion. 

You both caught your breath, never straying from one another’s gaze. But, wasting no time, you wordlessly returned to his lips, him springing into action almost simultaneously. This time, he took charge, walking you backwards until you were sitting on his desk, pushing papers and office supplies out of the way. The clinking of pens against each other after you knocked over a stationary cup pulled a giggle from your mouth. You smiled into his lips while he fiddled with the buttons of your shirt. You followed his lead, the sound of his jingling buckle echoing throughout the wide, empty office. You looked into his eyes, willing him to tell you to stop. He didn't. He never would. 

Clark peeled back the thin layer of cotton unbearably slowly, exposing your chest. The cool air sent a shiver down your spine. He wanted to take his time. You needed him now. 

He took over your frantic movements below his waist to finish the job, freeing himself from the constricting garments. You had to sneak a peek. You’d be crazy not to. Expecting to feel nervous in your obvious peeping, you instead burst out laughing. Not at him, not at what he had to offer (because he, of course, had a lot to offer), but at his boxers. Blue and patterned with the iconic Superman logo. His words caught in the back of his throat, cheeks burning red with embarrassment. Tears threatened to prickle in your eyes as you fought to keep your composure. You pulled him back in by the collar, still grinning ear to ear, and planted another hard kiss to his soft lips. His expression softened, melting into the kiss. That goofy crooked grin you adored pulling at his features in the most perfect way. 

With his confidence restored, he decided someone oughta wipe that smile off your face. He pushed himself into you just an inch, causing your mouth to hang open, a shrieking moan escaping from your throat. He chuckled, burying himself in the crook of your neck to plant sloppy kisses on your skin.

“Asshole…” you sighed. He pulled back, still wearing that crooked grin as he grasped the back of your neck, forcing your eyes to look deep into his as he plunged all the way into you, a guttural sound tearing through your vocal cords like he somehow forced it out, sealing the space in your body. He stalled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, before setting a pace so slow it made the earth spin faster by comparison. You whined, dug your nails into his shoulders, trying anything to make him speed up. He was enjoying making you desperate. He wanted you to tell him what you wanted. You so desperately tried not to give in. That was until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Clark…” you gasped. He said nothing, just simply tilted his head and quirked up an eyebrow. As if he truly didn’t understand what you wanted. He was such a pain. 

“Please…” With this, he finally spoke. 

“Say it. Tell me what you want.” His voice was so soft and saccharine that you almost forgot how agonizingly evil his movements were. 

“Faster,” you managed to choke out. “Please, Clark.”

With that, he switched gears like second nature, hastening his movements in a way that made you throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much. But there was no going back now, finally having everything you’d wanted. Or at least everything you were able to want in this moment. You were supposed to be plotting. Trying to get closer to Superman and finally land that interview. To get the inside scoop, for once. Now, you were placed against a desk at your place of employment, your work crush—more notably Superman—driving in and out of you, making your eyes glaze over with lust. 

Clark’s breaths were heavy and rapid, huffing with each jut of his hips. You felt a pressure building deep in your lower abdomen, heightening with each soft praise that left his lips. He felt it, piercing blue eyes looking deeply into yours. 

“Yeah,” he cooed. “Come on, you got it.” As if responding to his words, your body gave out in his grasp, back arching, hoisting your chests together like two puzzle pieces. You cried out as your release washed over you like an all-consuming fog. Clark didn’t stop. He kept up the same merciless speed as you came down from your high. Finally, with a few sharp movements, he buried himself inside of you as he came, you still out of breath underneath his broad body. You both stayed like that for a while, panting into each other’s ears. Finally, he pulled back, that same dorky, nervousness creeping back into his face as you looked back, slumped in his strong arms. 

“Hi,” he said. You let a breathy chuckle shoot past your lips. “Hi,” was all you could muster back. Both of you were unsure of how to go forward. What now? Work would never be the same from here on out, that was for sure. Not only had you just discovered the secret identity of your best friend at work, but you’d also just had sex with him—really good sex, you might add. He pulled out, taking a step back to watch you contemplate. Your brain only half-registered his movements, too consumed by the question of how to proceed. Just as your mind landed on “fuck it,” he was motioning to zip up his fly. 

As if possessed, you lunged toward him to pull him into another heated kiss, grasping his collar and pulling it down towards you like it was your job to keep his feet on the ground. He scooped you back up right up, arms snaking around your body and swaying you as you walked him backwards to your desk, just across the aisle from his. He practically fell into your rolling chair, the wheels continuing backwards until you planted two hands on either side of him, clutching the backrest as you straddled him. He looked up at you a completely different man than the one who had just taken control so easily moments before. Your eyes bore into his timid expression.

“Tell me this is okay,” you asked, almost in a whisper. He handled your waist like it was a precious thing. Like you could break.

“Gosh—Of course it’s okay.” That was all you needed. You shimmied in his lap before sinking down onto him. Clark hissed at the sensitivity, muttering “carefuls” and “watch its” under his breath, worried you might hurt yourself in your eagerness. It never stopped you, your hips rolling in harmony with his bucking. His eyes rolled back, his head folowign suit while you combed your fingers through the dark curls on the crown of his hairline. 

“Oh man…” Clark moaned the words in an obscene drawl. You felt the sound shoot into your lower abdomen as your arousal reached new heights. His name was one of the few things you were able to muster, too weak to even look him in the eyes anymore, instead, buried in the crook of his neck. Clark handled you with the care of a relic. Like you were the most expensive antique in the world’s most secure museum. Big hands kept you steady while his throat betrayed him over and over, letting out quiet grunts and strained moans. Every sound made you more and more sensitive to his touch. To the feeling of him as you moved up and down in a messy rhythm. 

Once again, you felt the build of another orgasm deep in your gut. He felt it, too, feeling your grip as you tightened around him. His grasp on your waist became firmer, as if to make sure he didn’t let something so expensive slip out of his reach. Like he was making sure he didn’t let you fall and shatter on the floor. Your head lolled back, pressing your body into his as yours and his pleasure peaked. Too blissful to remember to move after a gutteral sound ripped through you, he took over, jutting his hips over and over, overwhelmed with feeling until he successfully rode out both of your orgasms.

You all but collapsed into him, shoulders rising and falling, body following the same motions with each of Clark’s deep, heavy breaths. He turned to stone around your body. 

Neck finally finding the strength to crane up, you met his blue gaze. Once again, a new expression formed on his face. Not control, not lust, not shyness. Devotion. Pure and profound devotion. You had never seen such a look from him, or anyone, let alone directed towards you. The corner of his mouth crooked up into a sweet smirk.

“What are you doing Friday?” God, he was unreal. He was still fully immersed in you and still asking you out like you were two kids who needed dates for the prom. 

You smirked at the goofy smile that hollowed out his dimples in the prettiest way. “I’ll have to check my schedule.” Clark half-rolled his eyes as you pretended to ponder. “Hm,” you sighed, “I guess I could squeeze you in somewhere.”

“Good,” Clark chuckled. “I hope you like breakfast for dinner.”

[50shadesofchrome]

Off the Field

JackieShauna Heated Rivalry AU

Summary: The star captain of the Rutgers dance team, Shauna Shipman faces a rivalry with the haughty cheer captain, Jackie Taylor. On the sidelines the two can’t help but try to outshine one another..whether it’s to anger each other or impress each other, they can’t ignore their confusing, pent up feelings.

18+/MDNI

Warnings: Jackie and Shauna are both 18+ college students, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, thigh riding, fingering

wc: 5600

 – Act I –

Shauna narrowed her eyes on the propelling, red figures across the football field, scoffing at their over-enthusiastic chants and flips, “Their uniforms are so outdated.” The dance team captain’s eyebrows furrowed as she dialed in on a striking red head’s twirls and bright smile. “Still want Jackie Taylor’s head served on a platter?” A hand slapped on Shauna’s shoulder, breaking her away from her angry daze. Taissa Turner, her close friend on the dance team who had a shared passionate hatred for the cheer squad. “Oh, I don’t need her head, just the sheer humiliation on her face when we outperform their entire routine in about–” Shauna looked up at the colossal scoreboard to watch the timer count down to half time, “–four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.”

When the brunette captain led the other dancers in their crimson uniforms, almost unrecognizably different from the cheerleaders’, a cocky look grew on her face. Like statues, the dance team waited for their cue to show out. When the music began to blare from the echoing stadium’s speakers, the girls in the middle of the field unfroze. In tandem, jutted movements and spins overtook them, the audience enthralled by their synchronized symphony. 

The stadium lights seemed to gleam off of the dancers’ pom poms the wrong way into Jackie’s eyes. The cheerleading captain crossed her arms and with a swing of her red hair she turned to a group of her fellow cheerleaders, “God, they are so extra. The beginning halftime performance used to be our thing.” Watching the dance team from the sidelines was always her least favorite part of the football games. With each kick and hip thrust from the dancers, Jackie’s eyes only rolled harder. She peered at the large audience above her, a sea of red Rutgers attire flooding the stands. Everyone, students, parents, long-committed fans, had their gaze stuck on the dance team. A burning jealousy ran through Jackie’s veins, knowing that the audience was never that engaged with their sideline shows. A different emotion overtook her, as she noticed the dance team captain, Shauna Shipman, something different from jealousy. Watching the brunette’s sharp choreo with an out of breath smile turned up to the crowd, Jackie crossed her arms in..hatred? No it wasn’t hatred.

When the upbeat music faded out, the dancers performed their charming bows and blew kisses towards the student section. Though, Shauna’s eyes weren't focused on the audience’s applause. She immediately looked for the cheer captain on the sidelines, pleased when she met Jackie’s big, hazel eyes that held a furious look. Shauna’s heartbeat quickened, feeling a rush greater than the satisfaction of hearing the audience’s whistling just by meeting gazes with her rival. Jackie averted her eyes and turned back to her fellow cheerleaders, probably to give them a major pep talk or shit-talking about their performance just now, Shauna assumed.

 Shauna nodded her head to Taissa beside her with a lift of her eyebrows, wordlessly saying that she successfully pissed off Jackie. Beginning to skip off the sidelines, glittery pom poms still waving about, Shauna led the girls behind her like an army general. Simultaneously, the cheerleaders made their move to the midfield, Jackie strutting in an irritated manner. She wanted to get that same attention from the audience on her that they gave to the dance team..that they gave to Shauna specifically. The red head cracked her knuckles as she shifted her stepping to run directly into Shauna when passing each other on the field. Shauna, distracted by the rustling of her pom poms, head twisted, geared toward the stands, felt a sharp thud to her shoulder blade. She flung her head to the opposite direction to see wisps of red hair walking past her. Before Shauna could even register the cheer captain’s shoulder check, Jackie whispered an assertive, “Watch where you and your little Rockettes are going, Shipman.” In a sudden moment, pom poms slammed to the ground and the thrown-off dancer blurted insults left and right. Jackie paused in her tracks and rotated back to Shauna, startled that her temper would escalate that quickly.

“Oh come on Taylor, don’t get mad at me because your cheerleaders aren't as impressive as us–” Taissa snagged the arm of her captain from behind, “Shauna, don’t.” The fiery brunette drew her arm back immediately, disregarding her friend’s words. Stomping up to her, Shauna leaned her face in just close enough to Jackie’s to feel the warm air exiting from her gaped mouth blow across her face. The two found themselves tuning out the surrounding girls in red uniforms and the confused looks on the faces in the stands. Looking at each other, all sour comments and jibes seemed to disappear from the tip of their tongues. The silence between them signalled a different kind of tension, something that made both of their cheeks flush before Jackie averted her attention back to the field. “Let’s go,” she muttered to the cheerleaders, all giving the dancers around them dirty looks before following the flustered girl to get into positions for the big routine.

– Act II –

The morning sun breached through the sheer pink curtains of Shauna and Taissa’s dorm straight on to the dance captain’s peacefully shut eyelids. She woke up with a grumble, shifting her head the other direction to avoid the light. Her alarm clock read 8:27 AM. It wouldn't be long before the alarm screamed at her to get up and prepare for media day. For most involved with Rutgers athletics, media day was the most anticipated day during the season. An all-day photography shoot with the sports teams and individuals. Flinging herself from the twin sized loft bed, Shauna laughed at the sight of her roommate sound asleep, snoring with an arm loose off the bed. Jostling Taissa, the brunette with bedhead chanted, “Wake up Tai, it’s our day.” Taissa opened an eye and groaned, “This is like Vogue for you, isn't it?”

The football field was covered in athletes in all different uniforms. The basketball girls braiding each other’s hair, the football boys wiping stripes of black face paint on their cheeks, and photographers testing the quality of their cameras covered the field. Shauna turned to her dancers, “Listen people, I know it’s a hot morning. But, we have to look our absolute best here, so touch up your makeup or hair quickly. Plus, we could land the cover of Rutgers Magazine.” Scrunching her dark curly hair, Taissa chuckled to her best friend, “Man, this is serious for you, huh?”

“Of course it is..those bitchy cheerleaders were the cover last year. And they just had to have an entire page dedicated to the amazing rookie captain, Jackie Taylor–” Shauna mocked. “–Now hurry up and help me with my mascara.”

The team heard clicks and flashes as the photographer took picture after picture of them. The dance captain was the last one to take individual shots, who squealed and clapped at the final results. Pure confidence that she would have a huge picture of her plastered on the cover of the magazine by next month had Shauna grinning to her team.

“Oh, and Miss Shipman, our boss wants to see you shot alongside the cheer captain, Jackie Taylor,” the camera man said with a sigh, just ready to end the day that’s lasted hours on end already. 

Shauna’s heart sank. When only the soft snoring of her roommate and chirping crickets was heard at night, the dancer’s mind couldn't help but be distracted by Jackie. Laying awake she tried to push down confused feelings and fantasies about them being alone, sharing intimate touches, a certain red head whispering a carnal, “Shipman.” Shauna would toss and turn, frustrated she couldn’t uphold her little hatred act when she was alone with her own thoughts. She’d been able to escape the tempting pull of these thoughts during the entire day, until now.

She whipped around to look at the camera man, ready to complain and protest before being cut off by that familiar big, brown-eyed cheerleader who walked up from behind. “Are you ready for our duo shots, Shipman?” Jackie placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled, sarcastically. Jutting her shoulder up, Shauna made it seem as if Jackie’s touch stung, instead of the pleasant twist in her stomach she tried to ignore from the brush of her fingertips.

“Excellent, ladies,” the vivacious camera man said, platinum blond-slicked over hair and bejeweled blazer shimmering in the afternoon sun. Shauna faked a smile as she linked arms with her rival. “Okay, now I want you to face each other..and get really close, girls. The people love tension.” It was no secret to the students and staff at Rutgers that the two girls hated each other by this point. Ever since the fiasco on the field a few weeks ago, staring eyes and pointing, whispering classmates followed Shauna and Jackie everywhere. Rolling her eyes, Shauna turned to face Jackie, who couldn’t keep her pursed lip smile from appearing every time she looked at the brunette directly in front of her. “What are you smiling at?” Shauna sneered. “If this is some sort of intimidation tactic, it won’t work–”

“Oh my God, relax. It’s not this serious, Shipman,” Jackie cut her off, throwing her head back. “I hate it when you call me that,” the dancer said in a low, almost inaudible whisper. The smirking red head bit back a giggle, “I don’t think you do.” Shauna’s cheeks grew red, unable to formulate a snarky retort. To her fortune, the camera man snapped his fingers, breaking the overwhelming tension, “Girls. This isn't the time for angry chitchat. Let’s focus, and..Jackie, let’s make sure our arms are crossed.”

After a ridiculously long time of endless poses and pictures, the flamboyant man looked down at his camera with a prideful look, "Absolutely stunning, I think we’ve got our shots. You two are free to go.” Shauna sighed with relief, tensed shoulders slumping. Without a word, she glanced at Jackie one last time, who already seemed to be eyeing her, and trudged off the empty field. By this point, no more athletes or flashing cameras were anywhere near the vicinity, all long gone and finished with their photoshoots. Shauna walked into the empty, dim locker room, flipping on the light switch that expressed an echoey click, emphasizing the vacancy of the space. Locating her locker, the brunette let her hair fall smoothly from her ponytail. Opening the scarlet locker door with a faded knight plastered on it, Shauna sighed, just ready to change out of her dance uniform that started to feel too itchy and hot whenever she got close to that annoying cheer captain. As Shauna started to pull her arm out of the sleeveless uniform, the heavy locker room door cracked against the wall. Expressionless, she continued her undressing, thinking that it might just be Taissa searching for her, ready to interrogate her about the duo shoot with the devil. The room’s cold air hit Shauna’s sweaty back as she pulled her top down farther. “Oh shit, sorry. Didn’t know you’d be in here too,” a familiar cynical tone bounced off the walls from behind her. Scrambling to yank her uniform back up, Shauna blurted out, “Jesus, what the hell, Taylor!” A howling laugh erupted from the cheerleader, “Actually, I did know you'd be in here..just not stripped naked.” Shauna could feel her presence inching closer to her from behind. Exhaling, she kept her eyes focused on the messy interior of her locker, “What do you want? Haven't you tormented me enough already?” 

“You’re still hung up on this rivalry thing? We don’t have to act so tough all the time.”

Skirt flowing in the air from the sheer speed of her turning around, the fuming dancer clicked her tongue in disbelief as she finally faced Jackie, “Are you kidding me? As far as I can remember, you were the one that caused the whole scene on the field a few weeks ago.”

“Okay, yeah..but to be fair you really fucked our team over this season. Which I’ve forgiven you for.”

Shauna seethed at the audacity of this girl. Her demeanor was so careless, with this smug resting face. “What..What are you even talking about? Forgiven me?”

“That beginning halftime performance used to be our thing. Until the athletics department handed it over to your dancers last season.”

“We earned that spot–” Jackie cut her off with a scoff, sending Shauna into a deeper rage. “You know what, fuck you, Taylor. I’m not doing this right now.” Slamming her locker door, which seemed to echo through the whole stadium complex, she mumbled a mocking, “forgiven me.” Getting a kick out of the way she could almost sense the tempered brunette’s blood simmering, Jackie grasped onto the wrist of her “rival,” who attempted to barge past her. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. There, I said it. I’m sorry for the whole..ordeal during halftime.” Shauna’s breath hitched, wavering eyes avoiding Jackie's burning stare. “Could you look at me maybe?” Jackie asked in a softer, bantering tone, fingers still wrapped around Shauna’s smooth arm. Gaze slowly trailing up Jackie’s figure in that stupid cheer outfit, Shauna’s heartbeat quickened as she met her eyes. Those perfectly golden, round eyes that drew her in at night when her mind couldn’t be pressured to avoid her desires any longer. Finally capturing her again like they did that night on the field, she found herself with words lodged in her throat. A teasing smile grew on Jackie’s face as she noticed the sudden nervousness in Shauna’s attitude. A silence that seemed to make the room feel even emptier than before lingered in the air. “Happy that I admitted I was wrong?” A cracked voice fell out of the cheerleader’s mouth, inching close enough to where the girl in front of her could feel her breathy words waft across her face.

To both of them, this moment felt familiar to the night where they blew up on each other on the field. Except this time they were alone, actually alone..not that false desolateness they felt in each other's eyes in that busy stadium. Instead of anger surrounding the two of them, those confused feelings that bubbled up in their stomachs confronted them once again. Jackie hesitated before closing her eyes and closing the stuffy-aired gap between the only other body in the room, risking a light press of her lips to Shauna’s. Heart beating quicker than how it usually would after a performance, Shauna went wide-eyed, lips stuck together like glue. This felt like a dream or one of her forbidden scenarios she would play through her head at night. The cheerleader attempted another kiss on Shauna’s statue-like lips. Reciprocating, not wanting the softness of her mouth to free itself from hers, she parted her lips gently. 

The only thing the two girls in almost identical uniforms could focus on at this moment was the gentle, slow kissing and occasional whimpers from both of them. Placing her hands on the dancer’s hips, Jackie guided Shauna backwards until her back rested flat against one of the metal locker doors. Winded from the contact between her and the ice-cold locker, Shauna paused. She looked up at the girl she’d considered her enemy just moments ago, a string of saliva connecting her tongue to Jackie’s. In seconds, she gripped the back of her neck, just before her satin, red hair began to grow, pulling her back in for more. Kissing a little messier now, both of their mouths crashed onto each other’s recklessly. Shauna’s hips began to roll uncontrollably into the warmth of the body pressed onto hers, searching for something to satisfy her pent up needs. Jackie smiled into the girl’s teeth as she grasped her thigh under that short dance uniform skirt and hoisted it up around her waist. Brunette hair splayed against the locker door as Shauna threw her head back, the friction of her damp underwear glided along the cheerleader’s warm midsection. Biting back small grunts, her eyes were squeezing shut in pure bliss, Jackie smiling at the sight. 

As if a lighting bolt had suddenly struck Shauna, she opened her eyes and paused her once careless movements. Trailing her hands up from Jackie’s waist up to her bare shoulders, she shoved her back lightly. The absence of the girl’s perfect, warm figure made chills run down Shauna’s spine. “Not..not here,” Shauna murmured out in a timid tone that was unfamiliar to Jackie. If she was going to have sex, let alone sex with a woman, which she was very unfamiliar with, it would be done somewhere a little more comfortable, Shauna declared. Pupils shifting back and forth to ensure nobody had somehow snuck in to watch the two so-called “rivals,” she continued lightly, “Tai will be at her friend’s place tonight. Meaning..my dorm will be empty.” Huffing out a small chuckle, Jackie raised her eyebrows tauntingly, ”Wowza, Shipman. Never thought you’d be inviting me over to hook up.” 

Rolling her eyes, Shauna weaved around from Jackie and began to undress herself from her dance uniform as she originally planned. In a more comfortable manner, she pulled her red skirt down. Flinging it to the floor, Jackie stood behind her, admiring the way the tiny skirt’s boldly stitched, black “R” landed face up on vinyl flooring. Taking in her figure, Jackie exhaled, wishing she could just jump into a time machine to fast forward to tonight. Teasingly pulling her arm slowly out of her top, Shauna rotated her head to meet eyes with the girl and her now messy red hair behind her, “Could you help me out of this?” Shifting her eyes to the ceiling, she felt the air around her grow warm from the cheerleader’s presence and soft fingertips grabbing the bottom of her top. Yanking the vibrant, red uniform off, Jackie’s eyes noticeably widened when met with the lacy bralette and smooth, tanned skin Shauna was hiding underneath that bothersome dance uniform. Turning to Jackie, who was just inches away, lifting the uniform with two fingers, pretending as if it were a disgrace to touch anything regarding the dance team, Shauna seemed unaffected to be this exposed and naked to Jackie, whom she'd hated just minutes ago. “Campbell Hall, room 311,” she whispered, adjusting her mouth to the shell of Jackie’s ear, and fetching\\ her uniform back. 

Watching the brunette open her locker, clothes tumbling free to the floor, Jackie repeated the words Campbell 311 over and over in her mind. She twisted around, heading for the door, allowing Shauna to get dressed properly. There was no use though, those clothes would be torn off within a matter of hours anyway, Jackie thought, smiling to herself as she exited outside to the overbearing sun.

– Act 3 –

Shifting uncomfortably on her plush twin bed, Shauna changed positions from looking out her window to the blinking time on her alarm clock. She hunched over, deflated that time wasn’t moving faster. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. How could she be this nervous over a conceited cheer captain who seemed to have had a target on her back since last season. Shauna’s pondering abruptly halted as banging knocks on the dorm door rang through her ears. She jumped up, relief and anxiousness settling in, a gratefulness washed through the back of her mind, knowing that if Jackie took any longer to show up, she might've second-guessed the situation. Hands shaking to twist the doorknob, Shauna hadn’t prepared a confident facade to put on when inviting the cheerleader in. Met with that undeniably perfect smirk, Shauna’s mouth fell agape, failing to push out a greeting. This was the first time she’s seen the girl’s figure hugged by clothing other than that skimpy, red uniform. Her red hair fell like a waterfall onto the maroon, denim jacket draped over her shoulders. Underneath the jacket, a tight, floral tank top was tucked into her jean skirt that showed off her sleek legs. Standing there in an overwhelming silence for a split moment, Jackie broke the awkwardness, “So..are you going to invite me in or what?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Shauna shuffled out of the way, allowing the haughty cheerleader to lunge inside. “God, it’s so you in here,” she scoffed, taking in the lively room surrounding her.

“What does that mean?” The door shut lightly.

“You know, so vibrant..so hard to look at.”

“Fuck you, Taylor.”

Turning around to slowly stride up to the fed-up dancer, Jackie reached up to tuck a soft brunette strand of hair behind her ear, “You can if you want, Shipman.” Waiting for Shauna to make the first move this time, her snarky smile formed into a downturned line, glossy, puppy-dog eyes glancing at hers. Shauna stood with her thoughts for a split second, knowing that if she leaned in she wouldn’t have the willpower to stop herself from wanting more. Throwing away all her doubts at the sight of her former rival’s caramel eyes and pout, Shauna tilted her head to playfully bite onto her bottom lip, pulling back slightly. She’d hoped she successfully flaunted that she could be a tease as well, pushing down the unease of never being with another girl before. Releasing Jackie, Shauna trailed her eyes up and down her figure, silently inviting her in for more.

Sinking into the brunette’s frame, Jackie pressed her lips against Shauna’s, kissing with a little more fervor than the first time in the locker room. She felt hands immediately clutch onto her jacket, attempting to tug it off of her arms. Helping Shauna’s clumsy hands, she almost tore the garment off of herself in impatient desperation. Palms gripped onto her waist pulling her into the heated body in front of her. Shauna guided the both of them backward until the back of her knees hit the edge of her twin sized bed. Falling onto the pink comforter, she looked up, swallowing hard as Jackie stood in front of her, lifting her tank top off above her head. Shauna bit back a chuckle at the sight of the girl standing over her, a little bow planted in the middle of her bra before the curvature of her breasts started. Noticing her half smirk, Jackie followed her eyes, looking down at the bow on her chest, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. 

“No, it’s cute,” Shauna reassured, a breathy giggle spilling from her mouth,”but take it off,” she whispered. As confident and flirty as she sounded, that wave of pressure of not having an intimate experience with a girl hit her like a rock again. Jackie finally bent down over her, meeting her on the bed to find her lips again, Shauna found the clasp of her bra and fiddled with it until she heard the crack of its release. Before peeling the last item of clothing hiding her torso off of her, the anxious girl couldn’t help but blurt out, “I’ve never done this before..with a woman, I mean.” Lifting her head to scan Shauna’s blown out pupils that held a certain worry in them, the red head swung her hair to the side. “Oh, I already knew that, Shipman.” She whispered out, slightly regretting her signature brash tone as the words fell off her tongue. Swallowing, she decided to attempt a more comforting approach, “Listen, if you’re rethinking this over, we don’t have to–”

“No, please. I want to. I just..I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Shauna cut her off, hands following up Jackie’s back. Breathing out a laugh at the dance captain’s eagerness, Jackie sat up to toss her bra aside, the air suddenly chilling as she realized how exposed she was. She felt the brunette’s eyes burning into her skin. Shauna grabbed the fly of her restricting jean skirt, unzipping it. She needed to see more of her. All of her.

“Not until I get to look at more of you,” Jackie’s hand swiped through the air to catch Shauna’s before she could pull down her skirt. Wordlessly, Shauna sat up with Jackie to slowly tug her loose shirt over her head and lob it to the side. She maintained eye contact with those big hazel eyes in front of her and released a shaky breath when unsnapping her same bra that she was seen in earlier. Jackie hadn’t seen her completely bare yet. Like pulling off a bandaid, she stripped herself of the lacy clothing. Shauna couldn’t help but blush when Jackie took her in, observing every inch of her top half, mouth agape in awe. Still processing her fit body, Jackie grabbed the sides of her skirt and shimmied it off, revealing white underwear, a visible damp patch in the middle. Motioning for Shauna to do the same with a quick head nod, hasty hands removed her red athletic shorts. Jackie only just noticed the school mascot placed on the side of Shauna’s shorts, “You can’t get your head off the field for just one second, can’t you?”

Slinging the shorts directly at the cheer captain, Shauna muttered a playful, “Maybe I can for a few hours.”

“A few hours. How bad have you wanted-” Cut off once again by Shauna, she felt a hard kiss press to her mouth. Angling her smooth skin to perfectly align against Jackie’s, she dragged her on top of her body, tumbling until her head hit the pillow. Their arms collided and dragged down each other's bodies, unable to get enough of what they wanted. Messily kissing, their tongues fought for dominance mimicking the way they would silently fight each other with complex performances on the field. Jackie slotted a knee up to Shauna’s middle, pushing it slightly to get a reaction from her. Throwing her head back, a whine escaping from her, Shauna jutted her hips to press firmer onto her leg. Jackie began to trace little kisses and bites down her neck to her chest. Reaching a hand to palm her chest while sucking marks onto her collar bone. Her other hand slid down her toned stomach, dragging to her heated center. Jackie’s fingertips added pressure on the area Shauna needed her most. She took her mouth off of her burning skin, now wet and bruised with a purple mark. Chest heaving with deep breaths and light moans that made the girl on top of her’s heart beat faster, Shauna clawed the warm shoulders above her to signal she needed more. She wanted to rip off the fabric barrier that limited Jackie’s touch. Taking in Shauna’s actions and feeling the sting of her nails digging into her shoulder blades, Jackie snorted out a giggle, understanding that how she was rubbing against her was enough to drive her mad. She cruelly waited for the brunette to whine out a desperate plea to have her shimmy off her underwear and let her fingers sink into her. 

Shauna, aggravated and breathless, knew she would have to beg for exactly what she wanted. Just yesterday, she would never even believe she would be in this position, more so, this obedient and willing under her opponent. “Just fuck me, Taylor,” she finally grunted out, voice getting lower when Jackie’s fingers effortlessly located her clit over her now dampened underwear. Eyes squinting in satisfaction, always waiting for that moment Shauna would give into her, whether it was admitting that she and her dancers stole that beginning half time performance from the cheerleaders or admitting that she needed her to make her feel good. Grasping the waistband of her underwear, she glided it down her legs slowly, reveling in the sight of her, all of her. God was she beautiful, Jackie thought. Beautiful, but still a prissy bitch. Shauna’s eyes flitted to anywhere else in the room besides the confident gleam in those captivating eyes, face flushing at the realization of how displayed she was. “Look at me,” the cheer captain licked her lips. “You look pretty..you always look pretty.” If the stubborn Shauna Shipman could admit how much she needed her to fuck her, Jackie could admit how mesmerizing she looked to her across the field every game day, which usually annoyed her. A palm ran over every tight muscle and hard rib on the completely bare girl. Mustering up the confidence and security to meet Jackie’s eyes, Shauna wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a long, intense kiss, almost as if the two were already lovers who had just kissed for the first time after a fight. Jackie’s hand dragged to where the other had been waiting for all this time. Skin on skin, the hot wetness made immediate contact with her fingertips. Thumbing at her clit once more just to witness Shauna’s back arch off the bed, she began to ease herself into her. 

Gasping into Jackie’s mouth, the intrusion sent a pleasant warmth up Shauna’s abdomen. Babbling curse words, unable to focus on kissing, she threw her head back. She could feel the curl of fingers hit her sweet spot, sending her head backward. Jackie slid out of her, driving her fingers back into Shauna’s heat with a swiftness, until the hilt of her hand didn’t allow her to go farther. Picking up the pace, the brunette’s legs trembled under her, similar to the way her breaths became shaky. With each thrust of her fingers, an overwhelming warm sensation flooded Shauna’s entire body. “Come on,” Jackie gritted out, pushing through her exhaustion to hastily continue reaching the spot inside Shauna that made her groan into the silent air of the dorm. Opening her eyes to meet the other’s, Shauna’s arousal grew stronger at the sound of soft pants from Jackie’s mouth and the sight of her arm moving back and forth, plunging into her. A loud whine pushed against her lips, threatening to release itself. She threw her hand off of Jackie’s back, now streaked with red scratches, to her own mouth. Shauna bit down hard, not knowing how to handle a rhythmic pleasure like this. “Let me hear you, Shipman,” the cheer captain whispered, smiling through open mouthed heavy huffs.

Just a few hours ago during their prolonged photoshoot, Shauna dreaded the times Jackie would call her by her last name. Now, the sensual, low toned, “Shipman,” made her almost spill over the edge. Hand making its return back to Jackie’s body, a moan ripped through her. Feeling a tingling pressure in her lower stomach at the way Shauna didn’t hesitate to listen to her demands, Jackie knew that her toughness on the field was just an angsty act. Having her like putty in her hands was addictive, she couldn't help but lick a stripe up Shauna’s neck. Shauna began to feel the heat in her body peaking, unable to control her body movements and grunts. “Taylor–” was the only thing that rolled off her tongue before the ecstasy took over her, back arching inches off the bed before slamming back down in a grumble. Jackie felt her shuddering legs close around her hand, wetness leaking down her wrist as Shauna came down from her high.

Jackie plopped down beside her on the cramped twin bed, the two exposed and sweaty. Looking at the ceiling for a few moments, only audible inhales were shared between them. Cracking voice splitting the humid air, the red head turned to face Shauna, “Are you okay?” Giggling at Jackie’s attempt to comfort her, knowing it pains her to stray away from her typical sarcasm, she responded, “I would hope by my..reactions, you would be able to know I am more than okay.” Biting her lip and snorting out a laugh, Jackie nodded. Continuing, Shauna swallowed before asking, “Have you ever um..been with a woman before this?” She predicted the correct answer right before Jackie could set her eyes on the wall beside the naked girl beside her and awkwardly respond. “Yeah, I have.” An unwanted jealousy plummeted into her chest. “When?” She knew she had no authority to ask this and would risk Jackie getting overwhelmed at the unnecessary question but to her surprise she answered. 

“My cheer coach’s daughter. Senior year of high school. We were on the same team, it just sort of happened. We were the only two who were..similar on the team.”

Shauna chewed at the inside of her cheek, not realizing that Jackie had discovered and kept this part of her hidden for so long. She wondered if that one girl was still in the picture, she’d hoped not. She felt angry at herself and weak for letting this envy overtake her all because of this arrogant cheerleader she’d assumed she’d hate forever hooked up with another girl before her. Sensing Shauna’s gloom from revealing that she wasn’t her first with a girl as well, she spat out, “it didn’t mean anything, though.” Laying together in the dimly lit room, Taissa’s empty bed just a few feet away, a tenseness hung around them.“I should get going, morning practice, you know,” Jackie whispered before swinging her legs off the bed and picking her clothes up off the floor below. Shauna watched her intently as she snapped her bra back on and effortlessly climbed back into her skirt and tank top. Shauna scolded herself silently, thinking she made things too personal too fast. “Oh, sure,” she said as the cheerleader covered the shoulders Shauna was clawing at minutes ago with her jacket. As she headed to the door, she twisted her head to face the still bare girl whose limbs were outstretched on the uncomfortable dorm bed, “See you..next game.” Before Shauna could reply, Jackie reached for the door handle and exited in one quick motion. Next game.

part 2 coming soon

[50shadesofchrome]

After Practice

Santana Lopez x Fem!Reader

Summary: Santana Lopez always had this unexplainable animosity towards you, side eyeing you at glee club and making comments at cheer practice. Having finally put up with her one day in the locker room, your bickering takes a turn..

18+/MDNI

Warnings: reader and Santana are both 18, smut, angst, thigh riding, fingering

wc: 2000

As you shuffled to your seat beside Brittany, two whiny voices were already bickering about who gets to perform the solo this week. Kurt and Rachel have spent the last two days sucking up to Mr. Schue, trying to win him over with the decision.

“Well, I clearly sound more like Kelly Clarkson,” Rachel jutted from her seat, using that noticeably arrogant tone, per usual. “Oh, please, Kurt’s got more estrogen in his body than you do, Rachel.” Santana snickered. “Thank you, Sant–Santana!” Kurt’s face fell as he was hoping for anyone in the room to back him up. You watched your fellow cheerleader’s sleek, black-haired ponytail bob up and down as she nodded with a sly grin, mumbling an “it’s true,” to Quinn beside her. Eyes lingering on Santana, you bit back a laugh in hopes that she wouldn’t see you getting a kick out of her snarky comment.

Since joining the Cheerios squad and Glee Club, Santana always had this strange vendetta against you. You knew she could be quite the bully, but her animosity towards you seemed out of nowhere. Whenever you would audition for a performance in front of the club, the corner of your eye would usually locate Santana rolling her eyes, slouched in her seat. It was easy to brush off her petty gestures during Glee Club, but you wanted to grab the girl by her perfect hair when she would whisper insults to you about your performance at cheer practice. You didn't need a mini Sue Sylvester in your ear critiquing your stumbles or your imperfect back flips. Quinn and Brittany would often slam their elbow into Santana’s ribs, trying to keep her away from hounding you. The two blonds gave you smiles and mutters of “It’s okay,” and “you know how Santana is,” when they noticed only a thread was holding the two of you back from biting each other’s heads off. 

“Okay, enough! I still haven’t decided who the part is going to..” An agitated Mr. Schue finally silenced the arguing. Glee Club went on as usual, while Mr. Schue blabbered on about some life lesson tied to this week’s group performance, you caught Santana glaring at you from afar. Turning your head away from Schue’s nonsensical lecture, you met eyes with her, shrugging your shoulders and pursing your lips. Santana grimaced and whipped her head back around to pretend to pay attention to Mr. Schue's speech. You licked your teeth and shook your head, knowing it was going to be an excruciating day at cheer practice later just based off of her intimidating side eyeing today. The school bell rang abruptly, interrupting your thoughts about the fiery, perfect-looking Santana Lopez and how much she got under your skin.

Once the school day came to a close, you sighed, slumping your head against your crimson locker. You felt someone shake your shoulders and with an innocent voice, “Hey, I didn’t know you could sleep standing up. But you can’t really be taking a nap right now, we have practice in a few minutes.” Whipping your head around to the clueless blond, your eyebrows furrowed, “What?..No Brittany. I’m not sleeping, just mentally preparing for what you know who has to say about me today.”

The two of you were met with a harrowing sun as you walked to the football field, sweat immediately beading on your arms. You sat beside Quinn and the other stretching cheerleaders, Sue in her signature red tracksuit and ridiculously large megaphone, spectating. “Come on, ladies, some of these lousy stretches are looking like your mother’s kegel routine,” Sue’s megaphone blared into everyone’s ears. 

“God, are these heat waves radiating off of Coach Sylevester, or is it actually this hot outside?” Quinn whispered to you, leaning as far over as she could to touch her toes. You let out a laugh, releasing some of the pressure off of the practice to come. That relief quickly ended by a familiar voice snapping, interrupting the two of you, “What’s funny?” Santana’s eyes dug a hole into yours, a few feet away from you. “Oh, lighten up, Santana,” Quinn bounced back before you could even open your mouth to say something. The beautiful black haired girl’s mouth fell agape, ready to let out a witty insult before being cut off by Sue's “Alright, middle of the field. Hustle!” Your eyes lingered on Santana as she turned swiftly, flinging her pony-tail side to side and causing her skirt to fly up a bit, showing off her tanned thighs. You shook your mind from intaking her body, pushing down thoughts you didn’t want to have about the girl you “hated.”

You squatted, hands falling to your knees, out of breath. You guys have been practicing the same routine for what felt like a thousand times at this point, and you had the big ending of completing a running front tuck in front of the audience. You grunted, aggravated that you weren't able to stick your landing just right. Running through the routine again, you stumbled through your landing once more. “This ain’t Cabaret, honey, we're cheering here. I know you're used to dancing to showtunes in glee club, but let’s focus..that’s a wrap for today, ladies,” Sue’s words echoed through that megaphone she loved to use a little too much. Sighing, you headed off the field and to the locker room behind everyone else.

The cold water hit the back of your throat as you chugged your water bottle at your locker alone. The other girls packed up their things and were eager to leave for their air-conditioned homes in this agonizing heat. Brittany and Quinn waved little goodbyes to you. Just when the tension released from your body, thinking you were able to escape Santana’s berating comments, a searing voice cut through the hot air behind you, “It’s like you practice blindfolded.” You slammed your locker door shut and scoffed, “I really don’t need this from you, Santana.” Turning around to be met with that smug face, she crossed her arms and didn't let up, “What you need is to not drag us down.” Before you knew it, your cheeks turned red, hot with anger. “You can be such a bitch, Santana! What have I ever done to you?” You hissed out, eyes wide. Santana was taken aback for a moment, in disbelief that you finally snapped. She took gentle strides closer to you, snickering. With her perfect glossy lips and her perfect figure inching close, the thick, tension-filled air disappearing between the two of you, you only felt more fury rushing through your body. “You know, it all makes sense. If you rearrange and displace the letters in your name..it really is Satan Lopez,” your voice lowered, attempting to finally match that same cocky tone Santana used. “Oh wow, you’re brave,” she retorted, the arrogant smile on her face only widening. The false confidence you tried to withhold faltered when you realized how close Santana’s glistening body was. You let a shaky breath slip when you felt her body heat in the air around you and were met with her glossy brown eyes that seemed to suddenly lose their signature evilness. A suffering silence fell throughout the locker room, Santana’s hand reached up to twirl a strand of your hair that fell loose from your ponytail during practice. You couldn’t tell if this was an intimidation tactic or if she had been looking at you with the same attraction you so badly didn't want to feel towards her, either way, you felt a lustful heat well up in your stomach. “Do you really want to know my problem with you?” Santana’s voice fell to a whisper.

Like a statue, you gulped and stood still, no more sarcastic insults coming to mind. The black-haired girl in front of you cupped your jaw with a gentleness you’ve never seen from her. She leaned in and pressed her plush lips to yours, her nails dragging around your neck. Stunned, you pushed her off of you with a light shove to her chest. What was happening? The girl who’s made you dread glee club and cheer was just pushed up against you. Almost immediately, you missed the feeling of her warm mouth on yours and her hand teasing the back of your neck. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to give in to her, but you couldn't deny the thoughts of having her flawless body on yours any longer. Pulling her back to you in one swift movement, your lips found hers once again, hungry with fervor. Santana sighed out a breathy giggle into your messy kisses and pushed you back onto your locker door. Your hands found her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin under that cheer uniform you wanted to rip off.

Craving more of her, you began to roll your hips into her, wanting to remove any of the empty air between you two. Santana took notice of your desperate movements and hiked up your thigh, slotting one of her legs in between yours. A soft grunt spilled from your lips as you felt the contact of her skin on your thin underwear. She left a path of kisses from your lips to your chest, just where your cleavage was teased before being concealed by the red uniform. Throwing your hips harder into her, the pressure of her tan leg bumping onto your clit made your head fall back onto the locker with a metallic clang sound. Santana’s eyes lingered on your movements as she sucked marks onto your chest. The feeling of her biting and tongue on your skin had you clasping onto her silky hair, just under her ponytail.

Fingers brushed down your body, under your skirt, and to the waistband of your underwear. Santana pulled the top of your underwear out and let it release back against your lower stomach with a snap. She couldn't help but laugh and looked up at you, pupils blown-out and glowing, “Am I still a bitch?” You grumbled and nodded as she left feathery-light touches everywhere around your dampened underwear. She knew you needed her fingers on you. Santana trailed her kisses back up to your lips and moved her leg, that now shimmered with your arousal, out of in between your legs. She pulled your underwear to the side, shivering as you felt so exposed to her now. She interrupted your passionate kissing to watch your face react to her two fingers sliding over your clit. With a loud gasp, you slouched your sweaty forehead onto her shoulder. The fiery girl nudged your face off her shoulder and shook her head, her now unkempt ponytail swinging, “let me see you.” 

You opened your eyes to see hers focusing on your body. “You’re..so e-evil,” was all you could mutter out, head too foggy with pleasure to form another coherent word. At your mumbles, Santana drove two fingers into your entrance without warning. All the pent up moans you had been wanting to release earlier were freed from your mouth now due to the intrusion. A part of you knew she would never let you live this down, that she made you feel this good when you “hated” her. You catapulted your hand to your mouth to suppress your uncontrollable noises, which Santana smiled at. Curling her fingers upwards into you, a heat grew from your stomach and overtook your entire body. She quickened her movements, the sounds from the wet friction made your cheeks turn cherry red from embarrassment. By your lip biting and your eyelids squeezing shut, Santana knew to keep up her pace. Your legs erratically trembled around her fingers, a deep pressure forming in your stomach. With a whine, you fell over the edge, head falling back against the cold locker.

Huffing out deep breaths, you saw Santana grinning with a cocky gleam in her eyes. She slowly pulled her two fingers into her mouth, licking your arousal clean, “Just for the record, I still think you suck at cheer..and glee club.” After watching your eyes roll in annoyance she continued, “But..if that’s what gets you angry and turned on enough to let me do this again, don’t count on me being nicer to you.” Santana twirled that lonesome strand of hair hanging by your face once again before strutting off with a wink. Once you heard the locker room door slamming shut behind her, you couldn't contain your flushed face and smile.

[reverieal]

Dust Yourself Off

★ pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader ★ summary: forgotten what love truly feels like, you had pushed it to the side. steve harrington, on the other hand, was desperate for it. both working at the local family video (and with the help of your meddling friend, Robin), you realize you've been right in front of each other the whole time. ★ warnings: 18+ MDNI, nsfw sexual content, unprotected piv sex, riding, car sex, keith is a weirdo as per usual, friends to lovers, big dick!steve (ofc), ignoring feelings, confessions, no use of y/n ★ word count: 5.1k

Dust. It’s not Hawkins Family Video if there isn’t a thin layer of it on absolutely everything. The sleeves of the VHS tapes, the dark wood countertops, the top of the bulky store computer, and especially over your old, worn-out love life. It was sad, really. You hadn’t even thought about dating since junior year of high school. You’d abandoned the idea like the world abandoned Betamax. Cobwebs formed in the corners of your stomach, the butterflies long vacated. That was until you started working at Family Video.

Steve Harrington had a charm. Everyone could feel it. Everyone had to breathe it in. Suffocate in it. He held up the weight of his body with nothing but lean muscle and the unearned confidence of a derailed traincar. His energy pushed everything else out of the room until it was the only thing to inhabit it. It was for that reason you always wondered how he could possibly still be single. His attractiveness was no question. He flirted like it was his first language. He was desperate to find the right girl. What was holding him back?

Over the time you spent working at Family Video, you formed a close bond with your co-workers (bar one). You, Robin, and Steve worked great together. 

Robin, although completely co-dependent with Steve, clung to you from the jump. There's only so much you can get out of a friendship with a man after all. Your presence added a feminine touch to the masculine environment, and to say she was ecstatic was an understatement.

Steve was always respectful. He had a great sense of humor, too. Conversations flowed naturally, and banter came as easily as breath in your lungs. Once, when you first started, you were given the task of restocking some of the horror films. Somehow, they all ended up in the family section. Steve ended up taking the blame, earning some long lectures from some very horrified mothers. He just took them in stride, sharing a laugh with you once the parents marched out of the store, clutching their traumatized (or sometimes completely mesmerized) kid by the shoulders.

And lastly, Keith was… Well, he was just a nightmare. He’d eat Cheetos over the store computer, jamming the clunky, loud keys with crumbs. He constantly made rude remarks to Robin and Steve, abusing his authority to the fullest. He spoke inches from people's faces despite the unpleasantness of his breath, and he had the most glaringly obvious crush on you. 

You were the only person he didn't sneer at or pick on. The second you’d escape a conversation with him, and he’d retreat into his office, you, Steve, and Robin would find each other’s faces, exchanging looks. Robin’s was a mixture of pity and amusement. She’d laugh along with you despite her horror. Steve just looked annoyed, his jaw clenching. Like he was tired of you putting up with the guy. He’d tell you as much, too.

“I just don't get why you let him corner you like that. The guy’s a stain, you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to,” he’d say.

You’d snort and respond. “Harrington, need I remind you, he’s the guy who signs my paychecks. Of course, I have to talk to him.” He’d either nod in defeat or change the topic to something lighter. 

Today was just like any other. Slow, habitual, and long. Dust floated around in the rays of light peeking through the windows. Steve was hitting on what could very well be the fifth girl that day. He was swinging and missing, missing, missing. It was hard to watch. 

“Oh, Back to the Future, I love that one!” Steve leaned an arm against the ‘new releases’ display.

“Yeah, I heard it was supposed to be good,” the girl said, twirling her finger in her frizzy, permed hair.

“It’s great. I watched it when it came out, instant classic.” 

“You’re glowering.” That was Robin in your ear. Your head snapped her way, eyebrows knit together in a tight line. 

“What? No, i’m not.” “Still are,” she assured with a smirk. “Someone’s got a crush—” She sang the words in a classic teasing tune. Robin had known about your instant infatuation with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington since you’d become friends, but you couldn’t risk stroking her ego by confirming it. 

“Oh, please, that's ridiculous,” You huffed, yet your gaze found its way back to Steve and that girl. Your eyes clung onto the figures like a magnet, just far enough to keep you engaged, not close enough to draw you in.

“Do you think it’s too ‘all ages’ for a date night? My boyfriend didn’t like The Goonies that much.” Steve immediately froze. It was like his lungs stuttered, and his muscles turned to stone. It was just for a split second before he readjusted, and his confidence crumbled onto the floor. 

“Oh—Uh—Your boyfriend... No, no, he’s—He’s gonna love it.” The interaction faltered, crashed, and subsequently burned before your eyes. 

“Huh,” Robin started. “You’re not glowering anymore. Weird.” You flashed an irritated look at the girl. She winked and slowly walked away, a trail of pride under her every step. Robin read you like a book. She knew what you felt before even you did. You hated it. You also hated that it was impossible to stay mad at her. 

Of course, you liked Steve. Who didn’t? Wanting him was one thing, but you’d never dream of anything more with him. Even just the silly fantasy felt like too much to ask. Maybe one day you’d finally dust yourself off along with your forgotten desires, but Steve Harrington was just too out of reach. You learned to be satisfied enough with the daily banter and the small accidental touches. That was enough to last you until you got home, at least. When you’d lie in your bed at night, his face painted underneath your eyelids, imagining his hands instead of yours, touching every inch of you. His voice guiding you through wave after wave of ecstasy, whispering soft nothings in your ear.

When the girl walked away to Robin at the counter, you approached the ‘new releases’ stand Steve stood by, lingering at the scene of the crime. You had a big stack of tapes in your hand, which needed to be restocked. As you sorted through them to pick out the right ones, words began to spill from your mouth.

“Another one bites the dust, huh?”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Steve snorted.

“What do you think the problem is?” you asked. Steve leaned his weight on the display, huffing out through his nose.

“I don’t know—It’s like I’ve got this weird—” He stops to think and snaps his fingers a few times. “What’s the opposite of a chick magnet?” You laugh as you tuck Rocky IV in with the rest of the ‘R’s.’

“I think they’re calling it B.O. now.” This earned you the smirk you’d been eager to see all day after the many failed flirts.

“Oh, please, the ladies dig my scent.”

“I’m sure, since you use the same shampoo as them.” Steve fights with the corners of his mouth, which threaten to twitch upward even further.

“Harrington, back to work. I don’t pay you to sit around and ogle at our clientele.” Keith. He approached the two of you like a roach out of a rusty drain. “Nor my employees.” 

Steve said nothing, just rolled his eyes and took half of the titles in your hands. He shot Keith a sarcastic smile as he helped you unload. The greasy-haired man snorted and stalked back into his office.

“Jesus, that guy’s got such a thing for you,” Steve muttered into the shelves.

“Yeah, I noticed.” He reached out his arm, sliding one of the tapes in his hand into the display. His arm just barely grazed yours. His skin was a hot iron against your cold skin.

Steve was tired. He hadn’t landed a date in ages. When he had, they all ended the same. They’d chat some, get that over with, screw, and one of them would be out the door before the sun came up. He had set out to find a real love, one that was more than meaningless sex. More than the pretending and the shallow dialogue. Look where that got him. Still just as single as he was weeks, even months ago, and now more lonely than ever. To say he was frustrated would be completely unfair. It was so much more than that.

He had started up conversations with multiple girls today alone. Sending the lines out to watch them float. Not one catch. 

“Hey, looking for anything specific?” He turned on his signature Harrington charm.

“Do you guys have Grease 2?” And, just like that, the conversation was over. Steve could barely see the girl past his rapid blinking.

“Grease 2… Yeah. Yeah, we have that.

The girl left with her movie. And Steve’s dignity. He sank into the counter as the door’s bell chimed. 

“Going… Going… And, gone. Wow, Stevie, you are killing it today.” Robin teased him like it was an Olympic sport. 

“Yeah, my ego, maybe.”

“What was wrong with her?

“Grease 2.” Robin winced. That was everything she needed to hear. “What the hell is the matter with me?”

Robin couldn't hide her sly grin. Steve didn’t know what she was up to, but knew it was something. “Maybe you’re just not looking in the right places.”

He rolled his eyes. “‘Kay, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” Her voice lowered slightly. “You keep trying to look for the right girl as they come into the store. What if that girl’s already here?” Steve thought about what she said, mostly trying to figure out what the hell it meant. Already here? The only girls who were here at all times were Robin—and that was a no—and… You.

“What? Her?”

“Her.”

“Will you stop it with that? No, she’s totally off the table. No.” Robin groaned, throwing her head back in frustration 

“Ugh, Why?”

“Shes…” He exhaled. “Hawkins isn't it for her. She's not stuck here. She can leave whenever she wants.” “Maybe you can too. Did you ever think about that?” Steve brushed the words off like dust on his shoulder. Robin wasn’t making sense. Clearly, her chronic optimism was plaguing her pep talks in a dangerous way. 

“Do you have this on Betamax?” “No, sir, we don’t.”

“You people don’t have anything anymore.”

“Beta’s on its way out, sir. You should probably just switch to VHS before it goes completely obsolete.” “Listen, smartass, I am not switching to VHS, my machine works just fine.”

The next day, the hums of chatter and neon blended together into one vision-blurring work environment. Robin was being hounded at the counter, Steve was glaring in your direction, restocking some comedies, and Keith was directly in front of you, speaking at you instead of to you. Your senses were focused on everything around you except the offensive man in your personal space.

“So, what do you say?” he asked, a ring of Cheeto dust around his mouth, bag in hand. 

“Um—Sorry, what?”

“Me. You. Arcade?” The monotone words sucked the blood right out of your face. Did Keith actually just ask you out? Keith? The same Keith you once saw eat a Cheeto right off the floor after having been knuckle deep in his nose? The same Keith who has a higher score on Asteroids than his chances of ever scoring with a woman? That Keith asked you out?

“Oh… I—Um…” You were left a stuttering mess. Your brain went static, your mouth became dry. That was until you heard another voice from across the store. 

“Hey!” Your head snapped in its direction, desperate to look anywhere but Keith’s gaping mouth. It was Steve. He was sauntering up with a stack of tapes on one arm and just one in the other hand. He waved the tape back and forth as he asked you, “Where would you say this goes? Horror or thriller?” The movie was Police Academy.

Keith shot the other boy his signature sneer and began to answer with something snarky. You interrupted before he could get a word out.

“Oh! That actually goes under comedy.” As you ‘helpfully’ correct his knowingly dumb question, you follow his lead back to the displays and pretend to help him sort through the titles. Once you’re out of earshot of Keith, you mutter under your breath. 

“I owe you one.”

Steve woke up that morning already contemplating. He drove to work in silence, the only sound in the car being his long, deep breaths. He stared at the entrance of Family Video, frozen solid. He did all this with one very confusing and world-bending conversation on his mind. You keep trying to look for the right girl as they come into the store. What if that girl’s already here?

Robin. Always trying to confuse him. He should march in there and tell her to get out of his head, he thought. Instead, he stayed frozen. Mulling over her words over and over again. Steve had never looked at you any way other than platonically. At least, he swore he didn’t. Forced himself not to. He knew that this crummy Family Video in middle-of-nowhere-Indiana was just one bump in the road for you. He knew that the dusty shelves and the worn VHS cases were something you’d one day move on from without so much as a glance. He knew you’d make it out of this town one day. Unlike him. He was stuck. 

His tense body jumped when a knock at his window cut through his swirling thoughts. He looked up to find you walking towards the store, waving back at him. His shoulders relaxed as he followed your stride. How you carried yourself with just enough confidence to catch people’s attention, but not enough to pull them in. He wondered what it’d take to get you to want to pull him in for once. 

Shaking the thought from his head, he got out of the car and flipped on the signature Harrington bravado that got him through his days. 

“I owe you one.”

“Big time,” he chuckles, stocking the movie in the (correct) section. It, for some reason, struck you. You had never heard that sound from him before. Sure, you’ve shared plenty of laughs, but this was an entirely new thing. It was more intentional, more careful. Like he let his hard, confident exterior slip for just a moment. “I told you he would do it one day. You never listened to me.” He nudged you with a push of his elbow, jostling your mind to the present. 

“I know, I know, I just figured he was… self-aware enough? To ask any girl out for that matter.” He laughed again, this time employing the same self-assured disguise you’d always known him to wear. 

“Yeah—guys like that? They’ll always think they have a chance. No matter how pathetic it may be.”

“Yeah? What would you call you hitting on Becky H. yesterday?” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What—? Okay, that was—” He composed his stammers with a shut-eyed exhale. “That’s different, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow, a sarcastic grin tugging at your features before a loud boom sounded from outside. Thunder. When you walked to work in the cool summer morning, it was beautiful outside, not a drop of rain in the forecast. How were you supposed to get home now?

“Shit,” you muttered. Steve shot you a look. 

“What’s the matter, don't like driving in the rain?” he asked. 

“More like walking in the rain. That’s gonna suck.” Steve shifted his weight, a force tugging his brows tightly together.

“You walked?” You said nothing, the silence confirming his question. “That’s ridiculous. Why haven’t you ever asked for a ride?” God, he asked as if that were easy. You just shrugged. He continued before you even thought of what to say. “Well, starting today, I drive you, okay?” He stepped a little closer, grinning down at you. His closeness was something new. He usually kept his distance. You offered him a light smile back, feeling the heat from his body radiating off of him. Both of you stilled when a third voice cut through the weighted silence. 

“Hey,” Robin called your name. “Can you help me get this Beta rental on file?”

You looked back up at him, smile tightening. You gestured behind you.

“I should—” 

“Yeah.” He responded so fast you almost said the words simultaneously. 

You shuffled behind the counter, mind in a fog. The keys clacked beneath your fingers.

“This is the exact same process as VHS. Why do you need my help?” Robin wore her signature smirk, the one that told you she was up to no good. 

“I see you and dingus are getting pretty close over there.” You sighed into the blue light. 

“I’m sure I don't know what you're talking about.” Of course, that was a lie. You knew. You still felt the burn in your cheeks from his proximity, his gaze. Felt the tingling on your skin from the warmth he cast out. 

“Oh—I didn't mean anything cryptic or enigmatic or anything.” The way she was able to stumble over a completely solid sentence was fascinating. You just huffed at the words, shooing her a knowing look. Your hands finished on the keyboard when she spoke again, somehow in an even more leading tone.

“But… if I was?” she asked. “being all cryptic and enigmatic, I mean. Would that be so out of line?”

You turned to face her, pondering the question. “I guess not…” With that, her hands waved around, and her face, her features scrunched up in pure joy. 

“Great! I already started working on Steve.”

“Okay, crazy,” you said, brushing her off. She was already skipping around the counter to do some busy work, where her hands could get moving without making it anybody else's problem. Suddenly, her words registered, and your brows were pulled together in an instant. 

“Wait, what?”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind. Suddenly, it was like a flip had switched. Steve was getting so… close. He was pushing the boundaries, seeing how they bend. Looking for a limit that might not have even existed. It seemed like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. A few times, he even made contact. Trying to see if you’d flinch. You didn’t. He’d ask you about anything—stupid stuff. Stuff he already knew the answers to. Of course, Robin lingered hard. You and he both caught her peering over several times, no matter how tame your conversation. You just shot each other a look and laughed. 

When the clock struck 11, almost everyone was more than ready to run out of that door for the day. 

Robin skipped out with a “see ya!” and Keith stalked out without a word. You and Steve were too busy playfully arguing over movies on the shelves. 

“Steve, you cannot think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars.” “Of course it is! It’s the one with the teddy bears!”

“The Ewoks?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“A New Hope is the best one! Always has been—” You paused to take a quick look around. Where was everyone? “Wait, what time is it?” Steve checked his watch. “‘Round 10:30, Why—? Holy shit, it’s 10 after.” You looked at him with wide eyes. Then, he smiled, and all you could do was laugh along with him. How had you gotten so lost with him to the point that everyone and everything else had just disappeared? 

Steve grabbed his keys, locked up, and then you both were on your way, silently jogging to Steve’s red BMW, rain drizzling down even still. He opened the door for you and ran around to the driver's seat. 

The car ride was mostly quiet at first, bar the crackling thunder. Steve was the first one to speak up.

“Did you notice Robin acting weird lately?” You peeked up at him, his eyes glued to the disappearing road in front of him. 

“Weird?” you asked.

“Yeah, like… I don't know. She’s been saying these things, giving us weird looks… Robin’s a weirdo, but this is different. I don't know what it’s all about.” You thought about his words. Took it in. You thought back to what Robin had said a few hours before. I already started working on Steve. So that’s what she meant. You sat in silence for a moment. Steve was just about to fill the air when you beat him to it.

“You are… such an idiot.” He pulled his eyes away from the road to look at you. 

“What?” His face twisted in a combination of confusion and astonishment. 

You paused for a second, all the frustration hitting you at once. “She’s trying to get you to give me a chance!” The words felt like they were forcing their way out of your mouth. You tried to take them back the moment you said them, but Steve was already pulling over on the shoulder of the road. The car stopped before you’d even registered him shifting gears.

“Give you a chance? What are you talking about?”

Suddenly, your lips moved at a faster rate than your brain could stop them. The words spilled out of you like wine onto a pale carpet. “She knows I like you. Ever since I’ve known you, and—Goddamn it, I should have known she’d try to insert herself into my love life at some point.

“Yeah, that’s Robin alright.” That was all he could say. His voice was strained. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. He looked anywhere but at you. The dash, the window behind you, the time on the center console—anywhere where he wouldn't have to look you in the eye. Yours stayed locked on him.

“Steve.” Nothing. “You alright over there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” You dreaded what would come out of his mouth next. You honestly didn’t even want to know. You thought about how you’d rather get out now and walk home in the rain. Preferably in the middle of the road, now that you’ve practically spilled your guts to your work crush and close friend.

“I just wish I’d offered you a ride sooner.” Finally, he met your eyes. His hazel stare darkened in the twilight sky. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

You leaned in playfully. “Now’s just fine. I just can’t help but wonder who’s been keeping the seat warm for me.” You said with a smirk. The air felt lighter and lighter with each passing moment. You could breathe again.

Steve scoffed. “Please, I haven’t landed a date in…” He thought. Really sat and thought for a moment. His eyes became focused again as he spoke. “Since you got hired.” His expression shifts. He’s suddenly closer. You are, too. Your mind is in a haze when your lips meet in a soft, awaited press. Yours and his melted together, neither one of you wanting the moment to end. The kiss was featherlight. It was gentle. Hesitant. That was until it wasn't. Suddenly, you had both gone from testing the waters to cannonballing. Your lips pressed harder against his. His hands cupped your face. All of your late-night fantasies were playing out right in front of you like a film reel through an old projector. Was this even real?

You don’t remember how it happened, but somehow you ended up nestled in Steve’s lap. Your shins ached from climbing over the center console, though the sensation was quickly erased by your lips crashing into Steve’s once more. He had you by the waist, pressing you into him. Your fingers brushed through his brunette locks, earning a groan from the man’s throat. His hands snaked down your body, reaching your thighs on either side of his hips. Then, suddenly, one was hovering right under you. Right where you ached for friction of any kind. He pulled from your lips to lock eyes with you. When you gave him a quick nod, he wasted no time, cupping between your thighs and working pressure into the seam of your jeans with intent. You sighed into his mouth at the sensation, only motivating him further. He stayed like that for a while, memorizing the way you sound under his touch. Stowing it away for future recollection.

Then, Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He fiddled with the buttons of your jeans and ripped the fly down, needy and restless. He looked into your eager eyes before his hand disappeared into your jeans and began rubbing careful circles on your clit. You let out a moan at the contact you’ve so badly yearned for. You hadn’t been touched in ages. Even when guys would ask you out, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them your attention. Now, the man you've been holding out for all this time was right under you, whispering in your ear as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

“That feel good?” he asked, soft against your earlobe. You nodded, your lips pressed tight against each other. He slowed down his pace. “C’mon, let me hear it.”

You let the tension release in your throat, desperate for him to continue his movements. “Yes, God—just please—please keep going.” It was all you could manage. Seemingly pleased with himself, he got back to it, this time even faster than before. You lost control of your noises, repeating his name into his shoulder like a prayer. Just like that, you came undone in his grasp, clutching onto his biceps for dear life as he worked you through your release. You were left a puddle in his arms, chest heaving into his. When you got a hold of your bearings, Steve looked into your eyes, confidence deteriorating. “So…” he started, a dorky grin beginning to spread across his lips. “Should we head to the back?” You laughed, eyes rolling weakly. 

You climbed into the backseat first, and he followed close behind. You leaned in to kiss him. Soft and tender. He pulled you closer by the waist, tugging at your shirt. You lifted your arms above your head, and he did the rest, leaving you almost bare. Getting your pants off was an awkward process, the two of you giggling the whole time, but once they were off, you were right back on top of him like you belonged there. 

He gazed into your eyes as you lined yourself up. He almost looked nervous. As you slowly sank down onto him, he threw his head back, mouth agape. 

“Careful, careful,” he managed. You let a moan escape your lips as you adjusted to his size. Hands planted on his chest, you rolled your hips, watching the look on his face as it contorted. Your movements continued in a calculated rhythm.

“Maybe Robin had the right idea,” he grunted with a smirk, throat tight with restraint. You swallowed his words with another deep kiss. You loved Robin, but she was the last thing on your mind as you rode the man you’ve been dreaming about since you’ve known him.

The feeling was surreal. Being here, in the back of Steve Harrington’s BMW, sighing into his touch, letting each wave of pleasure crest and fall onto the shore. He must have felt the same, considering he tried his best to keep his eyes open, glued to yours. As if he was afraid that if he looked away for just a second, what was surely a dream would fizzle out and he’d wake up still lonely and desperate for someone to walk into his life the way you had. 

Feeling a pressure building in your abdomen, your movements sped up, almost involuntarily. Steve peeks into your gaze, feeling the shift. He stabilizes you with two hands on your waist, as you carelessly chase the feeling. He watches in awe as your mouth hangs open, eyes shut, reveling in the way he’s making you feel, like he’s proud to be able to get you here. 

The words don't come easily, but you’re somehow able to mutter a weak “Steve” through the chaos of your motions. Your hips became as sloppy as your lips, stained with the feeling of Steve Harrington all over your mouth like cherry wine. 

“Fuck—I know. I know.” His expression was inconsistent, changing with each roll of your hips, each sigh from your mouth, each gentle pulse around him. His arms snaked around you, grounding both you and him. Not pulling you closer, just feeling as much of you as he could. Holding you like a relic, like something precious. 

With nowhere else to go, your pleasure peaked, spilling over the edge as you came undone in his solid arms. Your hands gripped his shirt, balling it in your fists. Your eyes squeezed shut, jaw slacked. You went silent in a way Steve had never seen before. Not in indifference, not with unfeeling. It was a scream in a silent movie. A performance in the dark. A fallen tree in the forest. Steve watched in awe, your statuesque features bringing him closer and closer to his release. With a gasp inward, finally forcing yourself to breathe in the heat of your orgasm, he gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he buried himself into you. 

He unraveled just like that, face sinking into your collarbones as he whispered soft, unintelligible words into your skin. 

You both sat there for a moment, drinking each other in. Like you were both too afraid to speak. Fearful of spoiling something beautiful. His thumbs traced circles into your body, letting you know that he was still here. You pulled yourself back into reality and lifted your chest off of his, meeting the hazel in his gaze, the rain humming a gentle song into the windows of the car. Moonlit and delirious, Steve offered you a weak smile, one that you returned. 

“Yeah…” you pant. “Robin was definitely onto something.” Steve laughed in a sharp puff of air through his nostrils. 

“Guess I don't give her enough credit.” You both sat there like a couple of giddy teenagers, smiling into each other's lips.

“Maybe I should call her later. Need advice for my date with Keith, super nervous about it—” Before you were even done with the sentence, he was rolling his eyes, retorting back an unamused “oh, shut up!”

Then, he kissed you in a way that said everything. That he was now yours if you’d have him. That he already missed the thrumming of your heart against his chest. That he was ready to drive you home tonight and do it again tomorrow.

a/n: this took years off my life I was so stuck anyways hope u enjoy :)

[50shadesofchrome]

Sleepover Secret

Karen Wheeler x Fem!Reader

Summary: As Nancy’s best friend, it was only natural for the two of you to have sleepovers. But what she doesn't know is that you have the hots for her mother, Karen…and maybe she just might have an interest in you back. When Nancy brings you back to the Wheeler house for a girl’s night, you find yourself alone in the kitchen with Karen.

18+/MDNI

Warnings: Smut, age gap, cheating, fingering

wc: 3100

The grease of the pizza coated your fingers as you and Nancy finished the last two slices of Enzo’s pizza. “Wow, I haven’t been here in ages. I’m stuffed, Nance.” You sighed and leaned all the way back in your chair, closing your eyes. “Me too, but you better not be tired. I have a whole night of gossip and movie watching ahead of us planned,” Your best friend since high school said, fishing out cash from her pocket to pay for half of the meal. 

It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to hang out at Enzo’s together. You and Nancy hit it off and became inseparable since you were seated beside each other in your lame history class. You’ve been inside the Wheeler household quite a few times, always making eyes at Mrs. Wheeler. You would catch yourself glancing at the older woman while she was in the kitchen or passing through the hallway on the way up to Nancy’s room. Karen would often greet you in a low-toned “Hi sweetheart, how are you?” that caused you to stumble over your words in response, face quickly flushing. Your best friend would kill you if she ever found out you found her mother this attractive. With her ongoing romance with Jonathan Byers, Nancy would always try to point out men to you during hangouts at the Starcourt mall and the public pool, but you were never interested. It’s not like men weren’t interested in you, a few of the irrelevant guys in high school you didn't pay mind to would ask you to prom or even to go out for a bite sometime. Rejecting them, you knew the only person you seemed to get nervous thinking about was Karen Wheeler.

After driving back from the Italian restaurant, you followed Nancy up the driveway and into the front door, greeted with the sight of Karen tidying up around the living room in a tight shirt, flaunting her cleavage, which you couldn't help but notice. Your head in a fog, cheeks reddening uncontrollably, your haze was interrupted by that familiar, attractive voice, “There’s lemonade in the fridge if you guys want..Everything ok, sweetheart?” Your eyes trailed up from her mesmerizing chest to look into her hazel eyes, embarrassed. You hoped Karen wouldn't notice, but by the upturned smirk on her face and the soft laugh before asking again, “You seem to have something on your mind, is everything alright?” It was apparent that you weren't as sneaky as you thought.

“Uh..y-yeah, I’m okay,” is all you could manage before looking past her and running to catch up with Nancy, already halfway up the stairs. Your stomach stirred with humiliation and arousal, knowing that your best friend’s mom might’ve just caught you ogling at her. Before reaching the top of the stairs, you turned your head to look down at the blonde-haired woman, who to your surprise, caught your gaze, slightly biting her lower lip while undoing the last two buttons on her snug shirt, revealing more of her soft, tanned breasts. Your eyes lingered only for a split second before turning around to follow Nancy up to her room in a panic. What was happening? Karen couldn't possibly be seducing you, right? She was married to lousy Ted, but regardless, married.

Trying to shake your mind free of the way Karen looked at you, you focused on tuning in to what Nancy was spewing to you about Jonathan. The two of you sat on the floor as Nancy dipped the brush back into the crimson nail polish, some horror movie silently playing on the television behind. You felt the cool polish coat your nail as she grabbed your hand, mindlessly going on and on about how sweet her new boyfriend was. “Yeah, Nance, he seems good for you,” you responded, still trying to push back thoughts of her mother. “How’s your love life..Still uneventful?” Nancy joked.

“Okay, I see how it is. But..yes, uneventful.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t have your eye on at least one person.” Nancy looked up at you, tilting her head after finishing up your last nail. A small huff left from your mouth as your mind immediately circled back to the image of Karen unbuttoning her shirt at the bottom of the stairs just a few hours ago. “I guess I do,” you whispered out, pursing your lips. “Oh my God, you have to tell me,” Nancy shook you by the shoulders playfully. Laughing, you shook your head, “No way, I’m not telling.” Your best friend’s jaw dropped in frustration, “Alright well..I’ll figure out who the lucky guy is before you know it.” All you could do was raise your eyebrows at the irony. Nancy gasped, subject on her mind changing, “Oh yeah, I forgot!” Shuffling to the shelf beside her TV, she pulled out a VHS tape, hiding it behind her back. “Look what I rented,” She revealed the movie Sixteen Candles. The both of you have been waiting to watch the movie together for months. “Let’s go make popcorn,” the excited brunette said, dragging you by the arm out the door and down the stairs.

Rounding the kitchen corner, you saw Karen standing around, wine glass in hand. Nancy headed for the cupboard while you were distracted looking the older woman up and down. Swirling the maroon wine around in her glass, she sent you a wink. The slam of the microwave door and Nancy’s, “Okay just two minutes until the popcorn’s ready,” made you and Karen abruptly make eye contact. Waiting in front of the microwave, watching the popcorn bag swell, the only sound in the room was the popping of the popcorn. That silence was cut with a low breath against your ear, “Excuse me, sweetheart.” Karen placed a hand on the small of your back, reaching up to open the cabinet door above you from behind. You shivered and breathed heavy, too focused on her touch to pay mind to what she was even grabbing from the cabinet. “Here’s a bowl for the two of you to share,” she said, trailing her hand up your back before pulling it away to hand Nancy the plastic dish. The microwave beeped. Nancy pulled open the door, “Perfect. Let’s go!” eager to grab the popcorn and get back upstairs to watch the movie. You let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension in your body as you followed your best friend back up the stairs. A part of you wanted to stay in the company of Karen for the rest of the night, staring at each other and peering at her flawless body.

The opening scene started, and from then on, Nancy dialed in on the movie you two so badly wanted to watch. Though, you just couldn’t keep your mind off of the way Karen made flirty moves toward you, the same way you've always fantasized about. You adjusted yourself in your spot on Nancy’s floral sheets, trying to rid the warm feeling in your lower stomach. By the time the credits started rolling, you could barely recite the plot of the movie due to your distraction. You looked over beside you, noticing the brunette had been strangely quiet for quite some time. Noticing how her eyelids seemed to be glued shut, it was clear she had fallen asleep at some point during the movie. “Look who’s tired from eating that Enzo’s pizza now,” you muttered, eyes rolling. You sat in silence watching a blank screen, shoveling a couple more handfuls of popcorn into your mouth. Thirsty, you decided that you would venture down to the kitchen to grab some of the lemonade Karen mentioned previously. You’ve been in this house enough times to be comfortable enough to get anything you need, plus, it was late enough in the night that everyone should be asleep anyway. Slowly rising up and out of the bed, you inched towards the door. Doing your best to not wake the other members of the Wheeler family down the hall, you tiptoed down the stairs. Unexpectedly, you saw a glimmer of light around the corner. Someone was in the kitchen.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bright kitchen, seeing a familiar figure leaning against the counter. Karen, in her white, almost transparent nightgown, looked up to see you standing in front of the fridge. “Sorry..I just thought I might take you up on that lemonade offer,” you whispered. “Oh, please, help yourself. Someone has to drink it,” The blond woman said, grasping a bottle of wine from behind her, pouring the last few droplets into her glass. As you pulled the fridge door open to find yourself the cool pitcher of lemonade, Karen continued the conversation, “So is Nancy asleep?”

“Oh yeah, she was so excited to watch Sixteen Candles..but then I found her sound asleep by the time the movie ended,” you chuckled out, setting the pitcher on the counter. You headed for the cabinet above the sink before you heard a low, “I got it, sweetheart.” Karen grasped a glass from the cabinet and walked towards you. She froze just a few inches away from you, staring at you intently before handing over the glass and taking a sip from her wine. Anxiously, you murmured a “thanks,” and turned to pour the lemonade into the glass. You still felt her presence so closely beside you, causing your arm to shake while pouring. Karen appeared to have noticed your nervousness, exhaling a small laugh. “What is it..do I scare you?” She asked, meeting your eyes, when you turned to her. Your cheeks redden with embarrassment. God, you did not know how to conceal your attraction towards her. “What, no! S-sorry, no, no,” all you could manage was a choppy, mumbly response. Taking a long sip from her wine glass, she smirked and rested her hands behind her on the counter. Still maintaining eye contact, she bit her lip, “I see the way you look at me. It’s cute.” You sigh out and find yourself at a loss for words. “Relax, sweetheart..don’t think I don’t look at you either,” she sets her glass down to push a strand of hair out of your face, “You’re beautiful.” Heart beating fast, that hot feeling rushing back to your stomach, you looked down at the floor and replied, “Well, I could say the same about you.” Warm fingers tilted your chin up, making you look up into Karen’s gleaming, hazel eyes, now only an inch or two away from yours. “I think about you, you know. Especially at night,” she whispers closely, allowing you to feel her warm breath across your lips. “What do you..t-think about?” You attempted to sound confident in your flirty inquiry back, but just came off as timid instead. Karen lightly chuckled once more before leaning in to meet your lips.

You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. The Karen Wheeler, your best friend’s mom, married to lame Ted, just kissed you. A strong taste of fruity, sour wine lingered on her lips. She pulled away from you slowly, the two of you staring at each other, unmoving and silent. Taking it all in, the softness of her lips and the shape of her figure able to be seen in her sheer nightgown made you crave more. Wrapping one of your hands around her curly blond hair and the other one falling to her waist, you pulled her in abruptly, messily kissing her with fervor. With returning desperation, Karen latched her hands around your hips, dipping her fingers into your pajama shorts to feel the skin just above your underwear. Every time your tongue seemed to find hers, she let out faint moans that made you melt into her. You clutched the silk fabric of her gown, dying to feel the smooth skin trapped underneath on yours. Karen’s body pressed against yours made you lean back against the counter, arms finding the surface to stabilize yourself, your fingertips brushed the stem of her wine glass, causing it to collapse. The loud clink made the both of you jump and pull back, glancing at the wine covered countertop. Pausing to make sure nobody woke up, you turned to face her, humiliated, “I’m so sorry, I’ll clean it up right now–” You were cut off by the clashing of her lips back onto yours, “Later.”

Smiling into the kiss, you held onto her waist, pushing her back into the nearest wall. A gasp fell from her pink lips as her back hit the cold surface of the wall. You couldn’t wait anymore, you needed to feel her. Trailing your lips to her neck, your hands concentrated on lifting her nightgown up around her torso. Karen was quick to help you scrunch up the fabric and hold it around her hips, not letting it drape to conceal the place she needed you most. Dragging your hand to cup her sex, you bit down lightly on her neck as you felt how damp her underwear already was. You looked up to see her mouth fall open and her head lean back against the wall while you pressed onto her clit through the fabric, rubbing your fingers in a circular motion. Pulling her underwear to the side, you were finally able to feel her warmth. You wasted no time and thrust two fingers into her, an audible whine releasing from her. She leaned down to bite your shoulder to suppress her groans, as her hands were busy hoisting up her gown, allowing you to get better access. Driving your fingers in and out of her, you felt her wetness drip down your hand to your wrist. You felt her teeth dig into your shoulder blade harder as you sped up. The house was silent, all but her muffled grunts and the dampened friction of your fingers pulling in and out of her was heard. Teeth unclamping from your shoulder, she whispered a “m-more.” Your kisses lead back up from her neck to her mouth as you moved your hand quicker, deeper, reaching her sweet spot. Pleasure racking through her body, Karen’s legs were trembling, struggling to keep herself up. You gripped onto her thigh, pulling her leg up to wrap around your body, leaving no space for air between the two of you. “I got you,” you breathed in between your messy kissing. Curling your fingers, the breathless woman bit her lip and held onto you tighter, moans aching to be released from her mouth. You wished you could hear the pretty noises free themselves from her mouth but the both of you knew you couldn't risk yourselves being caught. Keeping up the pace of your movements, it was obvious Karen was close to reaching her high by the way her jaw fell open and her eyelids squeezing shut tighter than they were before. With a gaspy whine, her body slumped onto yours from the wall, chest heaving. “Are you okay?” You whispered into her ear, pulling your wet fingers out of her. She lifted her head from off of you to look into your eyes, a faint “mhm,” and a nod was all she could let out before collapsing back onto your body. A few moments later, her voice vibrated onto your shoulder with a hushed, “God, you’re good. I haven't felt something like that in a long time, sweetheart.” You chuckled lightly, reaching to glide your fingers through her soft blond hair.

In a heartbeat, she grabbed onto your waist and in a quick motion, spun you around. Back hitting the wall with a thump, you gasped startlingly. Karen, who was just tumbling onto your body, worn-out, moments ago was now in front of you, with a hungry look in her eyes. Bringing her mouth up to kiss the lobe of your ear, she whispered, “It’s time for me to return the favor, don't you think?” You just smiled back at her, watching her hands caress every inch of your torso she could reach. You leaned in to kiss her but she pulled back teasingly, raising her eyebrows as she slid her hand under the waistband of your shorts, wordlessly asking for your approval. Nodding quickly, face beet-red, you felt like a dork, not being able to hide how much you needed her. She followed through with your desired kiss while simultaneously gliding her hands into your underwear to palm your warmth. Karen grinned into the kiss when feeling how ready you were for her. Sliding two fingers into you, your body shivered at the intrusion. She curled her fingers, pleasure overtaking you. “Fuck,” you huffed out, clawing her silk-clad back. She thrusted her fingers into you at a faster rate, moving her thumb up to locate your clit, and pressed down. It took everything in you not to whine out, the pure ecstasy you felt was too much to handle.​​ Her fingers continuing to put pressure on the sensitive spot inside you, all you could do was let yourself unravel in her arms. Spasming, you let out an uncontrollable moan, a hot rush flowing through you. Karen murmured a hushing noise into your ear. Leaning back against the wall, your eyes opened to be welcomed with the gorgeous sight of the older blond grinning at you, hazel eyes glazed over. A sudden embarrassment overtook you, realizing you only lasted a few minutes before meeting your release and crumbling in her grasp. She placed a light kiss on your lips and moved a strand of your hair off your sweaty face behind your ear. 

Standing in silence just taking each other in, you raised an eyebrow at the puddle of wine on the counter a few feet away, “Should we uh..clean that up?” Karen nodded, laughing.

The last of the wine spillage soaked through the paper towel you swiped over the cold counter. Retrieving the roll of paper towels beside you, the blond placed her wineglass in the sink. After all was said and done, Karen walked up to face you, placing a hand on your arm. “So I suppose we should go back upstairs to our rooms before someone catches us. But..maybe next sleepover, you'll find me back in this same place in the middle of the night again,” she spoke with a genuine, hopeful tone. “And maybe I’ll just crave lemonade in the middle of the night..again,” you answered before turning away to walk up the stairs.

Tiptoeing back into Nancy’s neat bedroom, you found your best friend in a deep slumber just as she was before your disappearance to the kitchen. Smiling to yourself as you turned the lamp off and found your place on the bed beside her, you knew she could never know about what just happened between you and her mother.

[reverieal]

Closing Time

★ pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader ★ summary: you and steve just couldn't work together. you always found a way to make each other miserable. that was until you were both given the grueling task of closing up scoops ahoy together. ★ warinings: 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content, oral fem!receiving, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), work sex kinda, no use of y/n, very loosely proofread ★ word count: 2.9k

“Ahoy, ladies! Didn’t see you there! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain… I'm Steve Harrington.” The two girls in front of Steve shot each other a look before turning on their heels and walking away from the counter. All he could do was sink into his shoulders with a deep sigh.

You watched the scene like a train wreck. “‘That one ever work for you, Popeye?” you taunt. He straightens himself to shoot you a glare, thinking fast to catch the sailor hat you toss his way. He puts it back on with a huff. “I don’t exactly see you racking up any tips either,” he shot back. 

“Who was the last person to ask you out, again? Tone-deaf Tammy Thompson?” 

The brunette crossed his arms. 

“I’ll have you know,” he started, “It was actually—” a tall, spunky redhead cut him off with the opening of the glass divider behind you. 

“Children, children, do we need to put you both in timeout, or can you handle slinging ice cream in silence like big kids?” She called from the small break room. This was commonplace at Scoops Ahoy. Yours and Steve’s bickering was enough to give anyone a migraine, and Robin had to hear it all. Robin was one of your closest friends, so you understood her constant sarcasm and felt you usually had to comply with her sharp demands. But you also hated Steve Harrington. You wanted so badly to continue giving him a piece of your mind, but folded instantly.

You huffed, looking away impatiently like a child in a corner. Steve did the same. You both sat there, taking orders, fulfilling them, and doing it all with a half-assed customer service smile. Occasionally, you and Steve would get in each other's way, nudging elbows or bumping shoulders, the other acting like they’d been burned with a hot iron. 

“Watch it!” You would exclaim, causing patrons in the cramped ice-cream parlor to look up at the commotion. 

The dull, blurry flow of work made time slow. You were so close to the finish line, not having to look at or even think about Steve-the-hair Harrington again until tomorrow’s shift. Watching the clock, just as you were about to break through that ribbon, your stream of consciousness was interrupted by Robin popping out from the break room. “Hey kids, I’ve gotta hit it. Will you guys close up?” 

Your face fell.”You what?” 

Steve chimed in, too. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

Robin was actively backing away towards the exit while she spoke. “Yes,” she sighed, “I told you guys last week, I have that thing-y with the college admissions gentlefolk.” She spoke the last word in her best attempt at a British accent.  

“But—you and Steve usually close,” you whined. Steve just kept staring at Robin, silently echoing the same sentiment.

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose, stopping at the exit to deliver her farewell. “Okay—I can’t deal with you two. Just—wipe down some tables, shine some scoopers, and please try not to bite each other's heads off. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” She spun around and walked off for the day. When she vanished from sight, you and Steve slowly turned your heads to meet one another's eyes, disgust written on both of your faces. You didn't know what he was thinking, but your mind flashed a glimpse into the next hour or so of your life. The parlor was emptying, the last fleeting moments of your shift melting away.

This was the easy part. Sit around until it was time to close and get out as soon as possible. You had a feeling, however, that Steve would not make this as easy for you as you wanted. You sighed deeper than you possibly ever have before and slumped forward, eyes dropping to the vinyl counter in front of you. Steve's eyes glanced over at you.

“No, don't even try to hide your enthusiasm.” He mocked, rolling his eyes in the process. 

“What, am I supposed to be happy? You’re dreading it just as much as I am!”

“Yeah,” he began, “but at least you get to look at this while we close,” he gestured to himself, arms rising and falling like a crazy person, showing himself off to you. Your eyes fluttered in annoyance, letting out an exaggerated scoff. 

“Oh, don't flatter yourself, Stay-Puft, I don't have much to look at,” you sneered, eyeing his ridiculous outfit up and down, too angry to see the irony in you donning the same uniform.

“First of all, nerd. Second of all, what’s not to like? I'm gorgeous.” 

“First of all,” you mocked, “everyone has seen Ghostbusters. Second of all,” you let the words hang in the air for a moment. “We need to close up.” You turned your back to him, walking over to the entrance and pulling down the loud grilles, signaling the day's end. 

You both worked in silence, wiping down tables. Several times, Steve would get up in your space, and you began to think he was doing it on purpose. He would bump into you, put his hands on tables you had just cleaned, and just annoy you to high hell with his mere presence. Soon, an idea popped into your head. You carefully dipped your rag into the bucket of soapy water on the table in front of you. Turning your back on him, you made a show of flicking the soaked rag over your shoulder, spraying stray soapy droplets of water Steve’s way.

“Dude!” He exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re gonna ruin the hair!” He quickly tousled and teased his brunette locks, making sure no stray hairs were out of place.

“Then I’d be doing us all a favor,” you almost laughed.

“You have serious issues!” He clamored. 

“My only issue is with you.” You shot back. The air in the room shifted. Suddenly, this wasn't playful banter. It was weeks of annoyance and aggravation and bickering boiling up into one fiery sentence. He got closer to you, his anger painting his expression. 

“Oh, yeah? You’ve got a problem with me?” He spat. This was the most aggravated you'd seen him in all your time torturing each other on the clock. You matched his spite and got even closer, your bodies inches away. 

“Yeah,” you answered matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah?” he echoed with a quick nod. His face was inches from yours. You felt his rage in his hot breath as he spoke again. “Do something about it, then.”

You both held onto each other's gaze, sitting in your festering anger. You were just about to give him a piece of your mind when the space between you vanished. You weren't sure if it was you or him, but somehow your lips crashed into each other. Your hands flew up to grip his face hard. He squeezed your waist. You were still battling, it was just that the game had changed its rules. You pressed into each other without mercy, letting your emotion fuel each of your movements.

Your faces finally broke apart, leaving the two of you in panting, heaving messes. Your eyes and his locked together as if you were both silently asking for confirmation of what just happened. When you simultaneously realized that there was no going back now, you wasted no time pulling him back in, hand against the back of his neck. You began exploring each other again as if it were involuntary. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his gripping at your waist again, only this time he didn't squeeze. Almost as if he now knew it wasn't necessary anymore. He knew you were just as in this as he was. 

Without thinking, both of your feet were stumbling behind the counter. The swinging door of the break room boomed open and shut, and Steve sat you down on the table. He planted himself between your legs, deepening the kiss he had you in. He fiddled with the hanging fabric where your top bunched into your sailor shorts. Breaking the kiss, he stared into you deep, waiting for approval. A part of him looked nervous that his delay would cause you to rethink. To realize that what you both were doing was stupid and emotional.

Instead, you beat him to it, ripping your uniform over your head and tossing it onto the ground. He took a step back, eyes dark, and took you in. A deep, rumbling noise came from his throat as he stepped forward to meet his lips with yours once more. This kiss was different. He trailed down to your neck, leaving you panting in his arms. While he worked into the spot that earned him the most reaction, you fiddled with his waistline. “No fair,” you whined. This wasn’t the time for getting smart, but it was a stubborn reflex. He chuckled and let you messily lift his shirt above his belly button. He had to help you with the rest. Finally, you were even, and it was overwhelming. You needed to feel something. 

It was like he read your mind, his knee deliberately planted between your legs, getting just close enough for you to touch, but not close enough to where you needed him most. All you could do was whine, putty in the man's hands. This man, whom you wanted to rip apart for weeks up until just minutes ago. 

“Still got a problem with me?” He breathes into you. He could be such an asshole sometimes. You’d tell him so if anything other than his name would leave your mouth. 

“What do you need?” He asked softly, still teasing the space between you.

He didn't expect the question to thicken the air as much as it did. His eyes bore into yours. Your lips parted and sighed into his. 

“You.”

He looked at you for a moment and let out a light, breathless chuckle. You raised an eyebrow.

“I told you you wouldn't be able to resist this.” 

You breathe out, exhausted and unamused. “You're such an ass.” He smiled against your mouth. 

Without being able to adjust to his sudden movements, he was on his knees. You looked down at him through your bottom lashes, longing, pleading, begging. You help him slip off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. Your mind went blank as he gripped your thighs, prying them open, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. He stared, holding himself back from you until you nodded in approval, needing to double and triple check that this was what you wanted. Internalizing your yearning permission, he dove into you, tongue tracing the shape of your center. You threw your head back with a sharp cry, the pleasure surging through you like lightning. He groaned into you, sending shockwaves of vibrations into your core. Your hands flew into his stupid hair, tangling your fingers in his brunette locks and pulling him closer into you. With that, his pace quickened, tongue exploring all the right places. You moaned into the thick air, closing in on your high. 

“Steve. Please…” you begged. “Don’t stop.” Your pleas echoed in the air, feeling a tightness in your stomach. Just as you were about to spill over the edge, his lips pulled away from your clit, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. You whined at the lack of sensation, and he smiled widely, wiping you from his mouth. You wanted to protest, but your panting was too difficult to speak through. He laughed, earning a disapproving look. 

“Wow, you really wanted this, huh?” He pushed onto his knee, standing up to look down at you once again, planting a hard kiss on your lips.

“Shut up,” you managed.

“I think you’ve been wanting this for a while. Every time I’d touch you, every time I’d get too close.” He says the words between heated, wet kisses. “You acted like I was burning you.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe it was because I didn't want you near me?”

“Not at all.” Your expression failed you, clearly melting at his words. You tried your hardest to let the words sit in the air, to let the two of you breathe for a moment, but your hands acted on their own. They toyed with the elastic of his shorts, trying to make them budge. Your trembling fingers were too unstable to get the job done, but with Steve’s help, they were off. Your breath hitched as you saw what he was more than prepared to give you. “Jesus Christ,” you breathed. 

Steve smirked. That clearly boosted his ego. “Don’t let that go to your head, Harrington.”

“Too late.” With that, he stepped closer to you, planting one last deep kiss on your lips before lining himself up.

He pulled away and stared deep into your eyes in one last confirmation. You nodded back at him, and he moved. You finally felt his head stretch you open. You moaned into the crook of his neck. He groaned right back. He slowly pushed into you, inch by inch. Every time you thought it was over, he’d move in another. After what felt like forever, he was in. You both sat there, chests heaving. You were already a mess, and he hadn’t even moved. He clearly knew how big he was, which was why he let you catch your breath, waiting for your okay. It took you longer than you wanted, but finally, you gave him a weak signal.

His hands jumped from the table beside you to your waist, keeping you still and stable. You felt Steve begin to slowly pull out of you and inch his way back in. It was torture, but he thought that if he started off too strong, you might change your mind. He was trying to make it as easy as possible for you to take. 

“You okay?” He asked, his voice calculated and quiet, holding back whatever sound was threatening to tug at his vocal cords. You laughed into him. 

“Since when have you cared if I'm okay?” you asked with a strained smile.

“Jesus, what are you talking about? Always.” Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the admission. All this time, you thought he wanted nothing to do with you. Was he really saying the opposite?

All you could do was wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and plead. Plead for what? Even you didn’t know. He did, however, and before you knew it, his pace quickened. He buried his face into your neck as he stifled his groans. You threaded your fingers in his hair, grasping on for dear life. It only made him moan louder. You followed, each thrust punching the sound out of your throat. 

He kept a steady, experienced pace. You knew Steve had more than a few notches under his belt. You just wondered where you would end up on his list of sexual endeavors. The pondering thoughts didn't last long, as Steve knocked each one out of your brain as quickly as they came.

“Steve,” you managed. He pulled back, meeting your eyes, his dark with hunger and want. 

“I know, baby,” He grunted. “You’re doing so good.”

“I’m almost—,” you whined before a moan forced its way out of your mouth, gaze unfaltering with his. He looked back, knowingly, lips a tight line across his features.

“Me too, baby. I’ve got you.”

He didn't make it another couple of seconds before you were gripping into his soft skin, leaving crescent indents under your nails. The tension in your core released at once as your orgasm washed over your whole body, sending flurries of tingles across every inch of you. He followed close behind, giving you a few more thrusts before burying himself into you, head pressing into the crook of your neck like he needed it to keep him stable. You felt yourselves come undone underneath one another in the buzz of the dimly lit breakroom. The only sounds being your sighs of pleasure and your heavy breaths.

Finally, he got a hold of his senses and pulled out, earning an unplanned whine from you. He shuffled his boxers and pants back up, and it wasn't long before his hands found your waist again. He pecked at your forehead, then down to your lips, tenderly. In that moment, you forgot why you ever hated him so much. Hell, you wondered if you even truly had. You also wondered if he felt the same. Or if this was all just a one-time thing, a heated dance that went too far. Something you both would pretend never happened the next day. 

He pulled back and looked into your eyes. “Are we even now?” “Definitely,” you giggled.

“Are you still gonna be a pain in the ass at work after this?” He smirked.

“That depends. Does it get me more of this?” He didn't even take a second to think. 

“Oh, yeah.” He was fully grinning ear-to-ear now. “Besides, Robin might think we gave each other brain damage if you don't.”

“Hey, it's a two-man job, Harrington.” He smiled at the ground. You both wouldn't say it or recognize it head-on, but the sarcasm in your voices was all for show. You both knew you could never go back from this. Part of you knew that the few months you’d worked with one another had been leading here from the start. It was something you’d have to face soon, but right now, right here? This moment was too precious to ruin. Too fragile to break. You'd face it soon, but here with him, you now knew you were safe. You wanted to stay in that.

He looked back up to meet your gleaming eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

[50shadesofchrome]

Dinner and a Show

Karen Wheeler x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a lifeguard at the Hawkins public pool. You and Karen have been eyeing each other, making flirty comments back and forth until she invites you over for dinner, unknowing of your rough past friendship with Nancy.

18+/MDNI

Warnings: Smut, age gap, cheating, fingering, oral

wc: 2700

The pavement was hot beneath your feet from the summer sun shining down as you walked to the lifeguard chair. On this busy weekend at the pool, there was only one thing motivating you to work your shift. Karen Wheeler caught your eye reclining on the sunchairs with her other mom friends. You noticed she was wearing a new low-cut bathing suit that teased the curvature of her breasts, almost as if she wanted to impress somebody specific. When you walked past her, you shot her a longing glance up and down and complimented her, “Looking good Mrs. Wheeler..wearing that new suit for someone special?” She chuckled, “Maybe so.” Her friends were too focused on watching Billy Hargrove keeping watch of the pool from his lifeguard tower to notice the flirty conversation between you and Karen. Tension lingered in the air as you two stared at each other in an admiring silence. “..So uh how are the kids?” you asked to fill the silence. You bit your lip to hide a smile, Karen didn’t know you had a rough history with Nancy.

In high school, you and Nancy were close friends for a while, until she accused you of flirting with Steve and trying to pry him away from her. From then on, she gave you dirty looks in the hall and spread false gossip about you. Little did she know, you weren’t interested in him..or any man for that matter.

“Fine. Nancy and Mike are always out, God knows where, and Holly can be a handful these days. I feel unappreciated and overworked, I just needed some relaxing by the pool today, you know how it is,” Karen said with a sigh.

“Well I find it hard to believe that nobody could appreciate you, Mrs. Wheeler,” you replied.

“Thanks, you’re sweet..maybe there could be at least one person to enjoy my dinner tonight, how about you join us?” 

“Oh wow, I couldn’t possibly Mrs. Wheeler–”

“No no, it'd be my pleasure. Come by at around 6:30 tonight. Oh and uh..just call me Karen.” She said in a low, sensual tone.

You smirked and nodded, beginning to walk towards the other lifeguard chair across the pool diagonal from Billy, who was still being ogled at by Karen’s friends. 

“Isn't he just so gorgeous.”

“Ugh I mean look at his perfect hair.”

Karen’s friends were all whispering amongst each other about Billy. But she was smiling, still focused on the past interaction she just had with you. “Right Karen..?” One of her friends questioned, noticing she seemed to be thinking off about something else. “Oh yeah, sure, totally.” Karen responded, snapping out of her daze. For the rest of your shift you watched over the pool, while occasionally glancing at Karen’s sleek, tan body. Your mouth watered as you fantasized about what it would be like to get you two alone together and away from the public space. When the blonde, middle-aged woman and her crew decided it was time to leave the pool, she looked up towards you and sent you a quick wink before departing. A heat settled in your lower stomach and you shifted in your seat as you waved back to her. God, she must know what she’s doing to you. 

Finishing up the last few hours of your shift, you were eager to not only have dinner with Karen, but to see the look on Nancy’s face as you walked into her home. It’s been quite a long time since you’ve seen each other, and you know she still hates you. When it was time to clock out, you started closing up the pool quicker than usual so you could have time to go home and freshen up before dinner at the Wheeler’s. Billy seemed to notice your rushing, “Got a date or something tonight? You're just itching to leave.” Gathering your things before helping him close the entrance gate, you hid back a grin, “Hm something like that.” Leaving Billy no time to give a snarky reply, you left to your car and yelled a “See-ya” without looking back.

You stood in front of your mirror about to leave for dinner, making sure your skirt was short enough to draw Karen’s attention. After a short drive to the Wheeler’s house, you took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The blonde middle-aged woman opened the door almost immediately, as if she was specifically waiting for your arrival. She greeted you with a smile and a maroon dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She placed a curled strand of hair behind her ear and greeted you with her flawless red lips, “Well don’t you look beautiful. Welcome in, honey.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” you whispered, brushing past her while walking inside. Inside the dimly lit home, there was an entire cooked meal resting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes at the sight of Karen’s husband, Ted, who sat in his recliner in the living room. Ugh. You knew he didn’t treat her right. Holly sat at that dinner table, playing with her lite brite. “Sorry, Mike isn’t here he’s off running around with his friends somewhere,” Karen mentioned as she walked to set the table more. “That’s not a problem.” Surprised at the sound of your voice, Nancy came around from the kitchen into the dining room. She froze and scoffed when she saw you, “Oh you have got to be kidding me. Her? She’s the guest you invited over?” You stood there silently, not knowing how to respond to your ex-friend. “Nancy..That is not how we treat guests! What’s going on, do you two know each other?” Karen asked, appalled. Her daughter scoffed, “You could say that..”

“Uh yeah, high school frien–aquaintances,” you try to play it off and sent Nancy a wide-eyed look, as if you were trying to appease her pent-up animosity towards you. After a short moment of silence between the two of you, Karen interrupts with a confused slight smile, “Well let’s eat then.”

The clinking of silverware was the only thing heard for the first few minutes at the dinner table, until you broke the silence and looked at the woman beside you, “This is some of the best roast I’ve ever had, Karen.” She laughs under her breath, while taking a drink from her glass, “ Oh, it’s just alright. Don’t flatter me.” Your eyes hung onto hers for a longing moment, a hidden flirtiness in the air. Nancy raised her eyebrows and shook her head, “Since when have you two been on a first name basis? Unbelievable.” She dropped her fork onto her plate and got up from her seat, “Can I be excused now? Great, thanks,” Nancy said with a huff, not letting her mother answer. She grabbed her car keys and slammed the door on her way out of the house, probably heading to Steve’s or Jonathan’s, or whoever she was dating now. Karen looked distraught and tried to call for Nancy to come back but she was already out the door. Ted just raised his eyebrows with no reaction, “Well she’s happy today. I’m gonna go play some golf out back.” He got up with a sigh, and patted his wife’s back, “Thanks for the dinner, honey.” The family at the table was dropping like flies. “Can I go too?” Holly asked, still busy with her lite brite. Karen just nodded, discouraged. As Holly walked upstairs back to her room, the blonde woman slumped over, face in her hands, and breathed out, “I’m sorry, I just..I don’t know what’s wrong with this family. I mean, you try to set up a nice dinner and–” You placed your hand on her shoulder and just barely caressed her arm, “It’s ok, really. You’re quite the cook. Come on, I'll help you clean up as a thank you!” She looked down at your hand on her arm and bit back a smile, “No no, you're my guest, you shouldn’t..” You picked up a few plates from the table and headed to the kitchen, “Don’t worry about it.” 

She followed you into the kitchen with the rest of the plates in hand, “You know you really don’t have to help, honey.” You turned to face her, looking her up and down again just because you couldn't get enough of her body. “It’s my pleasure, Karen,” you grinned. You placed the plates in the sink and got busy rinsing off the leftover dinner. You felt a hand graze your lower back as she walked up beside you to help clean. Even her slightest touch sent chills down your spine. You felt the heat pooling in your stomach, the same way it did when she winked at you earlier. Silently cleaning, the tension in the air felt heavier as you noticed her body so close to yours. Every few moments her hands would bump into yours in the sink and you would try your hardest not to tense up. 

“Thank you for helping..I’m sorry again for Nancy’s behavior,” Karen said, drying the last of the now cleaned plates.

“It’s ok. We sort of used to know each other back in high school. She kinda thought I was trying to hook up with Steve at one point.”

The woman beside you just barely nodded and said nothing, almost asking you if it were true. “But..Steve isn’t the one I’ve been looking at,” you said, biting your lip looking up at her and into her deep hazel eyes. She opened her mouth just a little, about to say something, but then closed it and put a hand on your waist, signifying that she’s been looking at you the same way. You leaned in to meet her lips, not being able to wait any longer to be all over her. She kissed you back with the same desperation, hands trailing up your back. You had your hands all over her but it wasn’t enough, you needed to feel her warm, smooth skin. You pulled away from her breathless, slowly pushing her back until she reached the counter. You slightly lifted her dress up, stopping to look up at her and signal if it was ok to continue. Karen pushed a curl behind her ear to get a better look at you, nodded, and muttered a “Please.” You pushed up her dress to her waist and lifted her up on the counter so she could sit comfortably. For a moment, you stood back and admired her silken, soft legs. She looked at you with wide eyes, pleading for your touch. You slipped your hand in between her legs to feel her warmth and watched her gasp before kissing her again. Gently feeling her over her underwear, you could feel them start to get more damp. You moved a finger to press over her clit, making her throw her head back, releasing a quiet moan. She bit her hand as you rubbed her over the fabric a little harder. You felt yourself growing wetter at the sound of her pretty noises. Karen grabbed your hand and slid it underneath her underwear, unable to go another second without having you where she needed. Smiling in between your heated kisses, you felt just just how wet she was for you. She clawed at your back and let out a loud whimper when you slid two fingers inside her. You laughed a little, teasing her, “Quiet now, what if your husband walks in, hm?” You quickened your pace, watching her hold back sounds when you fucked deep into her. She felt so tight around you, you couldn't get enough of it. Karen rested her head on your shoulder. You felt her bite down on you after she breathed out a “f-faster, honey.” One hand gripping onto her exposed, smooth thigh, you sped up. Going in and out quicker, her legs trembled in front of you. You moved your head to her neck, kissing and making sure to leave visible marks. You trailed down to her chest while not slowing down. The feeling of you sucking and biting on her skin while continuing to reach deep inside her made her arch her back, breasts and torso pressing into you. You released your hand from her thigh, leaving a mark, to pull the front of her dress down to reveal her soft, perfect chest. You pulled back and looked down at her in admiration, letting a small whine fall from your mouth. She looked up at you with her doe eyes, still reacting and letting out deep breaths while your fingers curled inside her heat. Karen wrapped one her hands into your hair and pulled you closer to her breasts for you to have your mouth on. Giving her exactly what she wants, you licked over one of them, taking her nipple into your mouth. She moaned loudly and pulled your head even closer to her warm body. You smiled against her, loving every second of how she reacts to you. Her nails sunk into your scalp while her other hand found the edge of the counter, overwhelmed with the stimulation. “God, I’m gonna–” The breathless woman sighed out. You continued to glide your fingers into her, wetness dripping down your hands. The sounds of you fucking into her slick center turned you on, “You got it, baby.” She spasmed at your words and reached her high, relaxing her body against you. In one motion, you used your free hand to pull her jaw up to look at you and with your other hand, you pulled your fingers out from inside her and brought them to your mouth. Maintaining eye contact, Karen let out a small, almost silent moan as she watched you lick your fingers clean.

You still wanted more. You've fantasized about making her feel like this every time you saw her in those showy bathing suits at the pool. Looking at her pretty, worn-out face, you planted a light kiss on her smudged lipstick-lined lips before slowly getting on your knees before her. Almost like she was waiting for this, the blond woman spread her legs apart for you. You wrapped your fingers around the waist band of her lacy underwear and looked up to her to make sure she wanted you to keep going. She nodded, allowing you to pull the clothing down her legs and push them farther apart. Admiring the sight in front of you, hands tangled into your hair, pulling you closer to where she needed you. Without hesitating, you had your mouth on her warm sex. You moaned into her at the taste, tongue teasing everywhere around her clit. She gripped your hair tighter, frustrated you won’t give her what she wants. You gave in and placed your lips and tongue over her sensitive spot, causing her to gasp at the feeling. Flicking your tongue quicker, Karen pulled her hand to her mouth and bit down, holding back her uncontrollable groans. You let out an airy giggle against her heat while you felt her tan legs shake around you. She arched her back and wrapped her fingers around your hair as you quickened your pace, “Fuck honey, I’m—”

You both heard the back door swing open right before Karen spilled over the edge. Ted. Pausing your movements for a moment, you both shared a glance into each other’s eyes before adjusting yourselves. Just in time, Karen hopped off the table and pulled her damp underwear up while you wiped off the wetness from your mouth. Ted came from around the corner, an unaware look on his face, “It started raining, had to call it quits on the golfing.” Out of breath, Karen just nodded to her husband, only half paying attention. 

“Well I should get going. Thank you Karen for the dinner..and dessert,” you said to the flustered woman with a smirk on your face before heading to the front door to leave. “Since when did you cook dessert honey?” Ted asked.