Synopsis: After getting into a relationship ending fight with your ex you find yourself at a gas station with only a few dollars to your name and no place to call home. Trucker!Sevika sees a young, pretty thing in need of some help and well... the road can get pretty lonely when you're driving all alone for weeks on end.
Wc: 1.6
Warnings: g!p Sevika, legal but fairly large age gap (S is late 40's, R is early 20's), CNC, dubious consent, slight Somnophilia, Sevika is a perv, musk/sweat kink?, size kink, praise + degradation, unprotected sex + creampie, kidnapping.
An angel sent from heaven, that's what you resembled to Sevika when she pulled up at the truck stop. Crying with your makeup smeared down your cheeks and chin, messed up from how much you've been wiping away the tears.
The thud from Sevika's weight dropping onto the gravel from her truck caught your attention, lifting your head just enough to make eye contact with the stranger.
She was... gross. Her white wife pleaser was stained beyond saving with sweat, oil and grease stains. And something else you couldn't name. The toothpick between her teeth was chewed to death you're surprised she's not got spliters. Her nail beds were nasty too, large calloused hands covered in grime and fuel, cuticles a black color, matching underneath her nails.
Overall she was a mess... just like you, in some way. Only you were showered and more dishevelled than actually dirty. When was the last time she had a shower? The stench was terrible... yeah. Definitely not somewhat pleasing. Her musk was not making you feel oddly aroused. No way.
"Didn't your mama tell ya starin' is rude, doll?" Clutching your singular duffle bag closer to your chest you meet her eyes again. She's chewing on that pick with a smirk that is absolutely devastating, because it's so fucking sexy and you just broke up with your ex and you weren't about to rebound with some dirty trucker.
"Sorry... bad night." Had Sevika not been staring at your lips she wouldn't of known what you said- but lip reading came with the job, making out whatever stupid insults other drivers were shouting in their cars.
"Ain't got nowhere to land, do ya doll?" For a minute you want to protest, tell her you're waiting for somebodyto come and get you and that you'll be fine without her help.
However that would be a lie.
"...no." it was so quiet other than the rumbling of other trucks and the two old truckers with beer bellies laughing just outside the store.
"Get in the truck doll, I've got ya." Before you could think about refusing she'd tossed the truck keys into your lap and started to walk away towards the fuel pump. This was a terrible idea. Horrible. You're probably going to end up being the star of your very own murder documentary... but you really had no other choice.
It was this or nothing.
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"If you wanna settle down for the night, sleepers in the back." It had been an hour since you accepted the ride from the woman- who you'd learned was named Sevika. Peering past the curtain that separated the cab from the sleeper your nose wrinkles.
Why you expected her sleeping conditions to be any cleaner than her was beyond you. Of course it was filthy. The mattress had no sheet and there was some... concerning stains. The duvet she did have was as rumpled up into a ball in the corner. And she had one singular fucking pillow.
What. The. Fuck.
"You... you actually sleep back there? Like that?" Sevika's smirk grew as she took a quick peek back into the sleeper, assessing then deciding it was fine.
"Nothin' wrong with that doll, us truckers ain't picky. You take what you can get." Sitting back and refocusing on the road ahead, your eyes keep drifting to her hands. They're disgusting yet you keep imagining them on you for some fucked up reason.
"That's gross. You could at least get a mattress cover or something. Like what are those stains?" A shiver ran through you at your own question. Why did you ask? You don't want to know. The answer is only going to gross you out further.
"Struggle to sleep. Get alotta 'lone time with my fist." She smirks. Your lips purse in disgust.
"Ugh. You're such a perv."
"Like you ain't ever touched your own pussy, bet it's real sweet."
"Something you'll never find out."
"We'll see about that."
Her stench was filling up the cab, a musky, horrid sweaty scent that was doing nothing to help this god awful attraction towards her that you're actively ignoring. The jacket over your lap hides the way your thighs press together- or so you think.
Sevika is observant, has to be when driving a big rig like this. Of course she catches it.
"Got get some shut eye, doll. You're practically fallin' asleep over there." You really shouldn’t. You don't want too, being asleep means being vulnerable... though it had been a long day, and an even longer, emotionally draining evening.
A hour. At most.
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Sevika was trying so hard, so fucking hard. The urge to pull over and climb back there to have her way with you was overwhelming. It had been a good few years since she'd had something so pretty in her grasp- though no amount of time lessened her senses to women who were turned on.
The way you tried to hide it was adorable. She knew you didn't want to be attracted to her, Sevika knows she's a little roughed up, but everyone deserves a little love, right?
Pulling into a nearby, empty pit stop she slows and stops the truck gently as to not wake you. Initially you'd argued, were adamant that you weren't sleeping in her filth, though eventually you gave in. Climbing into the back is a struggle with Sevika being over six foot the sleeper was too small for her alone.
With you in it? She'd make it work.
You'd fallen asleep facing away from the cab, giving Sevika the perfect opportunity to stop down and spoon you from behind. Immediately she feels you tense then relax as she envelops you from behind, her musky scent flooding your senses in the best way possible.
"Sevikaaa... no..." the protest was weak, sleepy and absolutely not at all a real protest. Sevika ignored it and let her hands roam, slipping into your waistband and under your panties. With exploring hands she finds exactly what she thought she would.
Soft. Warm. Wet... and fucking tight. The tips of her two fingers already felt like they were stretching you open and she only had the tips of her digits in there. "Jesus fucking christ doll..."
Her hips roll against you pressing her chubbed up cock between your cheeks. Thank god you wore a skirt... maybe it's not so good for you though she has easy access and that's all she cares about.
By now you were half asleep, half awake your inhibitions weakened. Without restraint Sevika wraps one dirty, calloused hand around one thighs, lifting and spreading you open as she replaces her fingers with her length. A low, feral groan escapes Seviks, her breath hot against your neck as she start to rock the rig rocking along with your bodies as she stuffs you full.
You smelled so fucking sweet it was intoxicating.
Sevika smelled so fucking musky which was also intoxicating in an embarrassing way, because despite denying you wanted this, your body was reacting completely differently. Your hands come to rest on her forearm which was wrapped loosely around your neck to keep you in her hold as she humps into you like your nothing but a warm, wet hole for her pleasure.
"Shit baby... so fuckin' tight." Her hands spread you open wider as her thrusts pick up speed and intensity. The loud 'plap plap plap' of her hips pounding against your fleshy backside filled the small space, bouncing off the sleeper walls accompanied by the embarrassingly loud squelching of your cunt.
Small whines and moans are forced from your sleepy mouth as Sevika has her way with you, giving no option but to take it. Rhythmically your pussy pulses and clenches around her invading length, betraying your disgust with a primal need to be taken.
The position was slightly awkward and Sevika wasn't a young hound anymore but she'll be dammed if she stops or slows down just because her knees hurt. "Look at you... takin' my cock like a filthy fucking street whore hm? Gonna start working the corner to pay me back for all the miles I've driven you hm?"
Sevika's words were cruel, so godamn cruel yet all you could do was let out a pathetic, mindless whimper as your cunt betrayed you once more, gushing around her cock. With each pummel of her hips you could feel her swelling inside you, twitching with need. "That's right baby, lie here and take it. My very own personal cocksleeve... we'll loosen you up, don't worry doll."
Her last few stokes were lazy, her hips rolling and grinding to bury herself as deep as she could get before she let go. Groaning and biting at your sweaty neck she kept still, thighs tensing as she stuffed you full of her seed, the creamy white leaking out around her cock and smearing over your ass cheeks.
She wasn't sure if you came and she couldn't care less if you had. That was the best fuck she's had in... years. She's keeping you. Maybe in the morning she'll find a nice spot to take you for breakfast, knowing you'll be walking around with her dried cum between your legs.
It was unknown to you right now that you were hers, as you fell asleep in her arms again exhausted and completely fucked out. You'd learn soon enough.
warnings : ex!wife!baran x fem!reader . transfem!baran . nsfw , mdni . fingering . handjob . pinv sex . creampie . nipple play . manipulative baran . baby trapping . praise/pet names . marking . jealous/possessive baran . emotional vulnerability . baran yearning .
wc : 6.2k
find the request here
you hear the knock and it pulls you out of the half-focused haze of cleaning up after dinner. your son’s upstairs, sleeping after a long day. you wipe your hands on the towel hanging off the oven handle and head to the door, not really thinking much of it. probably a package or one of the neighbors.
but when you pull it open, it’s baran. standing there under the porch light with your kid’s school bag dangling from her fingers.
“he forgot this,” she says, voice steady and low. she holds the bag up a little, letting it swing once. “after i dropped him off earlier. figured you’d be dealing with the meltdown tomorrow morning if he didn’t have it.”
you don’t say anything right away. just step back and let her come in because what else are you gonna do, leave her on the doorstep? probably should have. she brushes past, close enough that her sleeve catches yours for a second, and you catch her familiar smell - her shampoo, something simple and clean that always lingered on the pillows before. she sets the bag on the little bench by the door, adjusting it so it doesn’t fall over, then straightens up and glances around like she’s checking if anything’s changed since last time.
“thanks,” you manage, crossing your arms over your chest. the door clicks shut behind her and suddenly the entryway feels smaller. “he said you guys went to that thing after school. didn’t realize he left half his stuff.”
baran shrugs, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. her mouth twitch a little, not quite a smile but close. “kids. he’s been in his own world lately. he’s growing so fast.” she nods toward the living room. “you mind if i sit for a minute? it’s been a long drive.”
you hesitate, she doesn’t even live that far, but sure. you still nod. “yeah, sure.” you lead the way even though she knows the house better than anyone. the couch dips when she drops onto it, hands neatly folded in her lap. you perch on the armchair across from her, not quite ready to get too comfortable. “water? or something else?”
“water’s fine.” she watches you head to the kitchen, her eyes following, almost like she’s studying you and not really trying to hide it either. when you come back with the glass, she takes it and her fingers brush yours on purpose, lingering just long enough. “you look good. a little tired around the eyes maybe, but good.”
you snort and sit back down, pulling your legs up under you. “flattery now? after months of radio silence except for pickup schedules?”
she takes a sip, sets the glass on the coffee table carefully, like she doesn’t want to leave rings. “not flattery. just saying it.” her tone’s casual but there’s an edge underneath, like she’s thinking three steps ahead. “how’s he been with the math homework? you texted last week he was ready to throw the book out the window.”
you laugh a little despite yourself, relaxing into the chair. “yeah, he’s been fighting it. i tried helping but i swear the way they teach it now is different from when we were in school. he gets frustrated and shuts down. you know how he is.” you shrug one shoulder.
baran nods, listening like she actually cares. she always do that, always so focused. “he’s stubborn. gets it from both of us probably. maybe i can go over some stuff with him next time.” she pauses, eyes flicking to your face. “unless you want me to stay out of it. i don’t want to step on toes.”
“no, it’s fine,” you say, waving it off. “he likes when you help. asks about you sometimes, you know. still asks why you don’t live here anymore.” the words slip out heavier than you meant and you see her expression shift, something softer crossing her features before she covers it.
she leans forward a bit, elbows on her knees. “i’ve been thinking about that. a lot, actually.” her voice drops. “dropping him off, picking him up… i still see him every weekend but it’s not enough. this back and forth. i miss the everyday stuff. dinners where he’s arguing about vegetables. you scolding both of us when i let him get away with not eating his greens. i’m sorry my job keeps me so busy.”
you feel the pull in your chest, a familiar ache. “baran, we did the whole ‘let’s try to be friends for him’ thing.” you say, exaggerating it with your hands. “it didn’t exactly work out so well.” you say softer.
“i know.” she doesn’t push, just sits there watching you, patient as ever. her fingers scratch at her forearm, a small nervous habit you remember. “doesn’t mean i stopped missing it. missing you. being a family.” the last part comes out quieter, almost like she’s testing the water.
the room feels warmer suddenly. you stand up to grab a snack from the kitchen just to move, and she follows without asking, leaning against the counter while you pull out some chips. “want some?” you offer the bag.
she takes exactly one, crunching thoughtfully. “you finally stopped buying the cheap ones? they’re bad for you.”
“i know. you’ve told me plenty of times.” you lean on the opposite counter, facing her. the space between you isn’t much. “so what, you just happened to be in the neighborhood with his bag?”
baran chuckles, dry and low. “something like that. maybe i just wanted our son to have his bag for school. or maybe i wanted to see you. talk without the handoff rush.”
she pops another chip in her mouth, chewing slow, the crunch loud in the quiet kitchen. she tilts her head a little, like she’s thinking it over, hesitating for a beat longer than usual before the words come out. “you seeing anyone?”
the question lands blunt, straight to the point like she always is, but it still catches you off guard enough that you pause mid-reach for your water glass. you raise an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “that’s none of your business anymore, is it?”
“probably not,” she admits, but her eyes don’t leave yours, sparkly and steady, a focused look that makes it hard to look away. she sets the chip bag down, wiping her fingers on her jeans. “doesn’t stop me from wondering though. you’re bad at picking people who deserve you.”
you can tell she’s not over it. the way her jaw tightens just a fraction, the small shift in her posture. she heard about that one hookup from a mutual friend, probably weeks ago, and it’s clearly been sitting there under her skin. jealous in a subtle way.
you scoff and roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips anyway. you lightly shove her shoulder, your palm brushing the soft fabric of her sweater. “oh fuck off. i can take care of myself, you know.”
her hand catches your wrist before you can pull back fully, warm and steady, fingers wrapping easy around it. her thumb presses right against your pulse point, feeling the way it jumps under her touch. she doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there for a few seconds, like she’s grounding herself or maybe reminding you both of how easy this still feels. “didn’t say you couldn’t, i know you’re a big girl.” she says, voice low and dry, a hint of that smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “you deserve better than some half-assed rebound who doesn’t even know how you like… certain things.”
you snort, trying to ignore the way her thumb is still there, slow and deliberate, sending little sparks up your arm. “and what, you think you’re the expert on what i deserve? after everything?” you tug your wrist free but not hard, letting your fingers brush hers as you do. the kitchen feels smaller now, the space between you charged again.
baran shrugs, popping one more chip in her mouth but chewing slower this time, eyes still on you. “i do know better than other people, that’s just a fact. i pay attention.” she leans against the counter opposite you, casual but close enough that her knee bumps yours lightly. “so? was it worth it at least? or should i be glad it wasn’t that great?”
you shake your head, laughing under your breath. “it was whatever, nothing serious. just… filling time.” you meet her gaze, the tension thickening again. “happy now?”
she doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with patient attentiveness. her fingers flex where they rest on the counter, like she wants to reach out again but holds back. “not really,” she says finally, honest and quiet. “but i’ll take it.”
the air hangs there for a moment, heavy with everything unsaid, before she straightens up a little, changing the subject but not really letting it drop either.
you end up back on the couch eventually, talking about nothing heavy at first. how your son’s obsessed with some new video game, the way the neighbor’s dog keeps digging up your flowers, stupid stuff that fills the space.
baran tells this short story about getting lost on a walk the other day because she was distracted thinking about work, but she catches herself and shifts to something lighter, complaining about traffic instead. her laugh slips out when you tease her about directions, a quiet sound that always hit you right in the gut.
“remember when we took him to that park and he refused to leave until he found the ‘perfect stick’?” she asks, stretching her legs out so her foot bumps yours accidentally-on-purpose.
“yeah, and you spent twenty minutes helping him look like it was a serious mission.” you smile despite the tension coiling low in your stomach. “you’re both ridiculous.”
she turns her head toward you on the couch, closer now. “it made him happy.” her gaze drops to your mouth for a beat, then back up. “i miss making you happy too.”
the words hang there. you don’t pull away when her hand rests on the cushion between you, fingers brushing your thigh lightly. she doesn’t push for more, just sits there with you, talking in that calm way of hers, attentive to every shift in your expression. it gets easier, she mocks the way you organized the bookshelf last time she was over, calling it “controlled chaos.”
you fire back about her habit of rearranging the fridge by expiration date, and she grins. “efficiency isn’t a crime, that’s what made us work.”
you look up at her and huff a small laugh, then back down at your hands. “right.”
an hour slips by. the conversation dips and flows, kid stuff mixing with old memories and careful questions about how you’ve both been. she stays, doesn’t make a move to leave even when the clock ticks later. the tension simmers underneath every glance, every accidental touch, building slow and thick.
baran’s knee presses warm against yours through her jeans, her hand sliding over bold and sure to rest on your thigh, thumb rubbing these slow, lazy circles that make your skin prickle under the fabric of your pants. her eyes stay locked on you, steady and dark, patient focus like she’s just waiting for you to catch up to whatever she decided an hour ago when she showed up at the door.
you feel the shift in the air, thick and heavy, and your stomach does a nervous flip. you swallow hard, not pulling away but not fully leaning in either. “we probably shouldn’t,” you say, voice low. “it’ll just complicate everything again. and if our son finds out, it’ll mess with his head even more, having us back and forth like this. we said we were done with this part.”
she doesn’t pull her hand back. instead her thumb keeps moving, slow and soothing, like she’s trying to ease the worry right out of you. she huffs this soft laugh. “hey, i know,” she murmurs, voice calm and low, the kind that always made you feel like things could be simple if you just let her handle it.
“i’m not trying to mess anything up for him. or for you. this doesn’t have to mean anything. just… tonight. one time. we both miss it. i miss feeling you like this, close.”
you hesitate, breath catching as her fingers press a little firmer into your thigh, not pushing but reminding you she’s right there. “baran… it’s never just one time with us. you know that.”
“maybe,” she says, tilting her head. a dry little smirk tugging at her mouth but her eyes staying soft, reassuring. “but we’re adults. we can handle one night without turning it into a whole situation. it’s no pressure, really. just us, blowing off some steam. thought it’d be nice… you’re wound so tight lately, i can see it. no one can really make you feel the way i do. let me help with that. one time. i promise.”
her hand slides up your thigh a little higher, thumb still circling, and she leans in enough that her lips ghost yours when she talks. “i’ve been thinking about you every night the past couple months, azizam. just wanna make you feel good again. that’s all.”
you bite your lip, the pull in your chest mixing with the heat low in your belly. months of keeping distance, of polite texts and quick goodbyes at drop-offs, and now she’s here, solid and warm and saying all the right things in her stupid steady voice. “you swear it won’t make things weirder?”
she nods, fingers threading into your hair at the back of your neck, gentle but sure. “i swear. no strings, no drama. let me take care of you for a bit, baby.” her eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up, patient as ever. “unless you really want me to stop. say the word and i will.” she offers a soft smile, when you don’t respond she sighs, clasps her hands together with a small chuckle. “at least let me say goodnight to the little man.”
before she can get any further you close the distance, surprising her. the kiss starts firm but it deepens fast when you open up for her. her tongue slides against yours, warm and familiar, and she makes this low sound in her throat that vibrates through you. her hand at your neck holds you right there, not rough but enough to keep you close, like she’s scared you’ll change your mind.
you kiss her back hard, all those months of nothing pouring out in the way your teeth catch her bottom lip, the way your hands fist in her sweater. she groans softly, shifting so she’s half pulling you into her lap on the couch, her other hand sliding under your shirt to press warm against your back. the circles her thumb was drawing turn into broader strokes, mapping your skin like she’s memorizing it all over again.
“that’s it,” she breathes between kisses, lips brushing yours. “you give in so easily with me.” she grins against your jaw, nipping lightly, then lower to your neck, sucking a mark that makes your breath hitch. you can feel her heartbeat against you, steady but faster now, her body heat bleeding through her clothes as she holds you tighter.
“missed how you feel,” she murmurs when you finally pull back for air, forehead resting against yours, her breath coming a little uneven now. her voice is lower, rougher around the edges like it’s taking effort to keep it steady. “missed touching you. the way you fit right against me.”
you nod, breathing shaky and quick, heart hammering so loud you’re sure she can hear it. instead of answering you just pull her back in, kissing her harder, deeper, like you’re trying to make up for every single night you spent apart. your hands push at her jacket, shoving it off her shoulders until it drops to the floor with a soft thud.
she helps you yank the sweater up and over her head in one quick motion, no bra underneath, and then her breasts are right there, full and soft and warm, nipples already tight and dark from how turned on she is.
you don’t even think about it. your palms slide over them, squeezing the weight of her, thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples until they pebble harder under your touch. baran arches up into your hands with a sharp inhale, her hips twitching under you, her thick cock pressing insistently against your thigh through her jeans. she lets out this low, broken sound in the back of her throat, not quite a groan but close, like she’s cracking just a little more.
she swears in farsi, eyes half-lidded as she watches your hands on her. “you still drive me fucking crazy.” her own fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder against her lap, grinding up slow so you can feel exactly how hard she is for you. the friction makes heat pool low in your belly, slick and needy already.
she leans in again, mouth hot on your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while her hands slide under your shirt, palms broad and warm as they map up your back. “upstairs,” she says into your ear, nipping at the sensitive spot right under your ear, voice rougher than before. “before we don’t make it that far and i end up fucking you on the couch.”
you laugh quietly into her neck, the sound a little breathless, but your hands keep roaming over her bare chest, pinching one nipple lightly just to hear the way her breath catches. “smart… come on.”
she stands up, pulling you with her, hands firm and steady on your hips the whole time like she doesn’t want to risk losing contact. you stumble once on the way to the stairs because you’re too busy kissing along her neck, teeth grazing her skin, and she catches you easy with an arm around your waist. her dry little chuckle slips out, even now when she’s clearly fighting to stay in control.
you quickly grab her hand to pull her the rest of the way up. she follows close behind, fingers laced with yours, thumb still stroking over your skin like she can’t stop touching you.
in the bedroom she shuts the door soft behind you, the click of the lock sounding way too loud in the quiet house. then she’s on you again, backing you toward the bed with deliberate steps, hands sliding down to grip your ass and pull you flush against her. her cock rock hard between you, and she kisses you desperately, tongue sliding deep like she’s starving for it. her breasts brush against your chest with every movement, nipples dragging, and she makes this low, needy sound when you reach down and palm her through her jeans.
“been thinking about this for months,” she admits between kisses, “you have no idea.” voice cracking just a fraction as she backs you until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. “every night. just you. it’s always only you, baby.” her hands are everywhere, tugging at your shirt, sliding under it to feel bare skin, patient but clearly hanging on by a thread.
she peels your shirt off with careful hands, letting her fingertips drag along your skin as she goes. her mouth follows right after, kissing wet and open down your neck, pausing to suck a mark right at the base of your throat that makes you shiver hard, a little gasp slipping out before you can catch it. her hands map your sides, thumbs pressing firm into the dip of your waist like she’s claiming the space again, then sliding higher, palms cupping under your breasts as she breathes against your collarbone.
“you’re so soft,” she mutters, voice low and rough, lips brushing your skin with every word. “missed every inch of you.”
you shove her jeans down her hips, impatient now, and palm her cock through her underwear. it’s thick and hot, already leaking enough to leave a wet spot against the fabric. she hisses through her teeth, hips pushing forward into your hand like she can’t help it.
“been too long… haven’t even been with anyone else,” she admits quietly, almost under her breath, kicking the rest of her clothes off in a hurry. her cock springs up heavy, curving toward her stomach, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening. her chest rise and fall faster with each breath.
you pause for a second, letting her words sink in, then let out a soft, breathless laugh. “oh, so that’s what you’re going with? trying to make me feel guilty because i actually went out and had a shitty hookup while you were being all noble and waiting?”
baran huffs a laugh too, but there’s this edge to it. she climbs onto the bed and helps you lay down comfortably, one hand supporting your back as she guides you onto the pillows, making sure your head is settled just right before she settles between your thighs. her touch is careful even now, thumbs brushing along your sides like she’s making sure you’re okay, like she still can’t help taking care of you.
“not trying to make you feel guilty,” she murmurs, leaning down so her breasts brush against yours as she hovers over you. “just saying… nobody else feels right. nobody else is you.” her cock presses hot and heavy against your inner thigh as she grinds slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of her, thick and throbbing.
you reach up and tug her closer by the back of her neck, grinning even as your heart races. “yeah? poor baran, so lonely while i was putting myself out there.” you tease, mock pouting but your voice is shaky with want as her hips roll against you again.
she leans down and smiles against your mouth, a small, knowing smirk that always gets you. “keep talking shit and i’ll remind you exactly why nobody else measures up.” then she kisses you deep, tongues lazy and messy, tasting and teasing like she really is trying to memorize every second of how you kiss back.
her fingers slide down between your bodies, teasing along your slit, spreading the slickness before circling your clit with just the right pressure. steady, focused, exactly like she always was. “you’re so wet already,” she says against your mouth, voice steady but cracking at the edges with how bad she wants this. “this all for me?”
“yeah,” you whisper, rocking your hips up into her hand. “all for you. only you.”
she chuckles low, but it’s breathless. “still got the effect on you,” she whispers, almost to herself. one finger push inside you, curling just right, and you moan softly, clenching around it as you rock down. she adds a second after a minute, then a third, stretching you slow and patient, thumb never stopping its tight circles on your clit. your thighs start to shake and she notices immediately, a small satisfied smirk flashing across her face even as her own hips twitch against your leg.
you reach down and wrap your hand around her cock, gripping the base and sliding up, twisting your wrist over the head where she’s slick and leaking. “you’re so hard,” you whisper, thumbing over the tip, spreading the wetness. “god, baran.”
she groans, burying her face in your neck, hips fucking shallow into your fist. her breath is hot against your skin, coming faster now. “want inside you so bad,” she says, nipping at your ear, voice rough. “been dreaming about you- your body for months. nothing else feels right, baby. you have no idea.”
“fuck me then,” you breathe, squeezing her a little tighter just to hear the way her breath stutters.
she pulls her fingers out slow, making you whine at the loss, then lines up. the head of her cock presses against your entrance and she pushes in inch by inch, stretching you wide around her thickness. the burn is so good, full and deep, and when she bottoms out you both just stay there, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard.
her breasts press soft and warm against yours, nipples dragging with every tiny shift. you feel every inch of her inside, hot and throbbing, and the solid weight of her body on top of you after all this time makes something tight in your chest loosen and ache at the same time.
“fuck,” she groans, staying perfectly still for a long moment, like she’s savoring it. “you feel… perfect. so tight around me, baby.”
she starts moving, deep steady rolls of her hips that grind right where you need it. not rushing it, just thorough, skin slapping quiet and wet with every thrust. you wrap your legs around her waist, heels digging into her ass to pull her deeper. “right there, oh fuck,” you gasp when she hits your spot perfectly, nails digging into her shoulders.
“yeah? like that?” she asks, voice strained but still so focused. she adjusts her angle without missing a beat, fucking you a little deeper, a little harder. one hand braces by your head, the other reaches between you to rub your clit in those tight, precise circles she knows drive you crazy. sweat starts slicking your skin where your bodies press together, her hair falling messy around her face as she leans down to kiss you again.
“harder,” you tell her, rocking up to meet every thrust. “i need more.”
she gives it to you, hips snapping forward with more force, but still controlled, like she’s holding back just enough to make it last. “like this?” she pants, seeking approval while grinding deep on every stroke. “tell me how it feels.”
“so good,” you moan, clenching around her. “missed your cock so much, baby. f-fuck-“
baran makes this low, wrecked sound and buries her face in your neck again, sucking another mark as she keeps her steady, mind-melting rhythm. the room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of her sliding in and out of you, your shared breathing, the creak of the bed.
she’s cracking more at the edges now, thrusts getting just a little less precise, but still so attentive, still watching every reaction on your face like she needs to know exactly what you’re feeling.
you flip her after a while, pushing at her shoulders until she rolls onto her back with this surprised but pleased little huff. you swing a leg over, straddling her hips, and she helps steady you with both hands on your thighs, thumbs stroking the skin there like she needs the contact.
you sink down slow onto her cock, inch by inch, the stretch even better from this angle. fuller. deeper. you feel every thick ridge as she fills you up again, your walls fluttering around her until your ass meets her hips and she’s buried to the hilt, making her shakily exhale.
“fuck,” you both breathe out at the same time.
you grind in slow circles at first, hands braced on her chest, fingers teasing her nipples, rolling them between your thumbs and forefingers. baran’s grip tightens on your hips, not forcing you, just holding on like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. her eyes are half-shut, heavy-lidded, but she’s watching every movement you make, drinking it in.
“you’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, voice rough and low. one hand slides up your body to cup your breast, pinching the nipple just hard enough to make you moan. “you look so good like this.”
instead of answering right away you lean down, pressing your chest flush to hers, and she immediately wraps her arms around your back, pulling you in tight. skin to skin, breasts squished together, her heartbeat hammering against yours. she keeps you there, close as possible, one hand splayed wide between your shoulder blades while the other grips your ass, encouraging the slow grind.
you stay like that for a long moment, just rocking on her cock, feeling it throb deep inside you while your mouths hover close, sharing breath. “i missed you too, you know,” you whisper against her lips. “missed how you hold me.”
baran makes a quiet, wrecked sound and kisses you, deep and sloppy, tongue sliding against yours as her arms squeeze tighter around your body. like she’s trying to pull you inside her chest. her hips roll up gently, meeting your movements, keeping that full, grinding pressure right where it feels best. sweat is starting to slick between your bodies, making everything slide hotter, easier.
the pace builds gradually. you start bouncing harder, lifting up until just the head of her cock catches at your entrance before sinking back down, taking her deep again and again. the bed creaks under you in a steady rhythm, sheets twisting around your legs and tangling between your feet.
her cock drags perfect inside you every time, hitting that spot that makes sparks shoot up your spine. one of her hands stays glued to your back, keeping your upper bodies pressed together while the other slips between you to rub your clit.
“that’s it. you’re doing so good,” she pants against your mouth, not letting you pull away more than an inch. “stay close.” her voice is strained, cracking at the edges, that usual calm fracturing the longer you ride her. you can feel her chest heaving against yours.
you kiss her again, tongues tangled as you grind down deep and roll your hips. “you’re so deep like this, baby,” you breathe, forehead pressed to hers. “making me feel so full.”
“yeah?” she whispers back, eyes locked on yours, dark and intense. her arm around your back flexes, holding you even tighter, hugging you while she fucks you. “just… fuck, you feel so good. thank you… for letting me have you. missed you so much, my love.” she says it so vulnerable, it almost sounds like she’d start crying.
you clench around her at the words, a soft whimper slipping out, and she softly moans, thrusting up harder to meet you. the closeness makes everything more intense, the heat of her skin, the way her breath fans across your face, the faint scent of her warm scent mixed with sweat.
she keeps you pulled in, bodies flush, barely any space between you as you ride her faster, the wet slap of skin filling the room.
her fingers on your clit never falter, steady and perfect, winding you tighter and tighter while her cock strokes deep with every roll of your hips. you bury your face in her neck, kissing and biting softly at her skin, and she turns her head to press her mouth to your temple, murmuring low words between shaky breaths.
“you’re still my girl… i love you, azizam.” she didn’t mean for it to slip out, but it’s almost like she couldn’t help herself.
months apart, and now she’s holding you like she never wants to let go again, cock buried inside you, bodies locked together in the messiest, most intimate way possible. you don’t want it to end either.
you switch again after a while, baran rolling you onto your back with this easy strength that still makes your stomach flip. she settles on top, sliding back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back. her long strokes are steady and deliberate, hitting deep every single time, dragging against that spot that makes your toes curl.
her mouth is everywhere, sucking fresh marks across your chest, tongue flicking over your nipples, biting down lightly on your shoulder like she needs to leave proof she was here.
“listen to how wet you are,” she whispers against your skin, voice rough but still so focused. “you’re perfect, no one will ever come close to you.”
the room is filled with the slick, filthy sound of her cock sliding in and out of you, your shaky gasps, her low groans that vibrate against your neck, skin slapping steadier and louder now. you’re both sweating, bodies sliding together hot and easy.
you’re right on the edge, thighs trembling around her hips, but she keeps the pace just right, deep and controlled. holding you there, drawing it out until you’re whining under her.
“baran,” you gasp, fingers tangled tight in her messy hair.
“i know, baby. i’ve got you,” she murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, breath mixing with yours. her thrusts get a little harder, a little faster, but still so precise, sweat dripping down her back under your scratching nails.
when you finally cum it hits you like a wave, crashing hard. you clench tight around her cock, a moan tearing out of you as your back arches off the bed, toes curling and doing your best to stay quiet with your son sleeping down the hall. she fucks you through it, steady and deep, grinding against your g-spot until you’re shaking and oversensitive, little aftershocks making you twitch around her.
“fuck, you feel incredible,” she groans, her voice cracking as her pace starts to lose that careful rhythm. “i’m so close-“
“wait,” you manage, still panting, hands sliding to her shoulders. “you can’t cum inside. please, baran.”
she slows just a little but doesn’t stop moving, looking down at you with this almost offended expression, trying to figure out your reasons with her big, chocolate eyes. her eyebrows furrowed like you just suggested something ridiculous. “why?” she asks, hips still rolling slow and deep, cock thick and throbbing inside you. “we used to do this all the time. what’s different now?”
you let out a breathless laugh, half from the pleasure still buzzing through you and half from how typical this is. “because we’re not married anymore. and we got caught up in the moment, a condom didn’t even cross my mind until right now. just… pull out, okay?”
baran huffs, but she nods, leaning down to kiss you slow. “fine. i won’t. i promise.” she says it steady, like she means it, but her arms wrap tighter around you, pulling your bodies flush again as she starts moving once more.
she fucks you harder now, chasing her own release, and you’re still so sensitive it feels overwhelming in the best way. her face is buried in your neck, breath hot and ragged. “you feel too good,” she mutters against your skin. “so warm and tight…”
her thrusts turn erratic, cock swelling inside you, and then she buries herself as deep as she can with a low, rough moan that vibrates through your whole body. she cums hard, hot and thick pulses flooding deep inside you, grinding slow and deliberate like she’s trying to push every drop as far in as it’ll go, wanting it to stick. she doesn’t pull out. not even close.
your eyes widen, a sharp gasp escaping as you feel the warmth spreading, her cock still twitching and pulsing deep. “baran-” you say, voice shaky, a mix of shock and thrill that makes your stomach tighten all over again. your hands push at her chest, nails digging in. “what the fuck?”
she doesn’t move away. just stays buried to the hilt, arms locked around you, breathing hard against your neck. “i know. i’m so sorry, baby.” she murmurs, but there’s no real apology in her tone. it’s rough, honest, a little wrecked. “it just… felt too good. came natural. i’ve cum inside you hundreds of times when we were married. why would it feel any different now?”
you scoff, pushing harder at her chest even as your body clenches around her again from the fullness. “because we’re not married anymore, baran. i trusted you. you literally just said you wouldn’t.”
she lifts her head enough to look at you. eyes hooded, dark and intense, her patient attentiveness still there even now. one hand strokes down your waist, soothing, while her hips give one more slow grind, pushing her cum deeper. “i know. but feeling you like this again… i couldn’t pull out. missed it too much.” she kisses your shoulder, soft and lingering, voice dropping quieter. “let me stay inside a little longer. please. just for a minute, you feel good.”
you stay connected, her warmth filling you, the sheets damp and tangled around your legs, the whole room smelling like sweat and sex and her familiar shampoo. your heart is still racing, body buzzing from the orgasm and the surprise of her breaking that promise so easily, but the way she’s holding you - close and careful, like she’s afraid to let even an inch of space come between you - makes it hard to stay mad.
months of distance, and now this messy, intimate wreck of a moment feels like everything rushing back at once. she presses another soft kiss to your neck, thumb rubbing slow circles on your hip, patient as ever even after she just got exactly what she wanted. she just needs to be more consistent from now on, more in your life. make sure you keep the baby. keep her.
That Italicized Oh Feeling (Olivia Benson x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Once Babs points it out to her, Liv has a hard time denying what's staring her right in the face. Why does she seem to have all the symptoms of a crush around you?
Words: 5.9k
Warnings: Normal SVU cases, swearing, jealousy, alcohol
Olivia wouldn’t have even thought about it if Babs hadn’t said anything. If Elliot hadn’t fed into it. If you hadn’t laughed in that way of yours, your eyes sparkling with mirth at the whole thing. It would have been so easy to continue on and never investigate any of those things about herself. She could have lived in blissful ignorance.
But your existence wouldn’t let her.
Keep mentioning you
“You can just ask her, you know?”
Olivia’s mouth snapped shut.
“Ask who?” she asked.
Your name made her still. Elliot was looking at her with that expectant gaze that made her shift her weight from foot to foot.
“Why would I ask her?” she asked.
“You keep bringing her up,” he replied.
She blinked, mouth snapping shut. Any argument was gone from her lips. She hadn’t thought she was bringing you up that often. It wasn’t even a conscious thought. But maybe she had.
Shaking her head, she turned away from him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, El,” she said.
“You’re usually much more convincing,” he called after her retreating back.
Keep thinking about you
After a long day at work, Olivia knew that sinking down onto her couch with a large glass of wine might not be the cure to her thoughts, but it didn’t hurt. Her head fell back, a long sigh parting her lips before she took a long drink from her wine. Some cases ate at her more than others.
With her eyes closed, the image of you from that day flashed through her mind. The way she saw your heart break right there in front of her. Lips parting, eyebrows drawing together, eyes widening. The soft light hitting the tears gathering along your lower lids.
It was stupid how beautiful you were even when upset.
She took another long drink from her wine before standing up. Food was a good idea if she planned on drinking at the rate she was. Her mind flitted away from the task, wondering what you were eating tonight, if you were eating tonight, if you needed a drink as much as she did.
Placing the order for takeout, she sunk down again, cradling the glass in both hands, forearms resting against her thighs. Staring into the dark red liquid, she swirled it, trying to read what was to come in the future like it was tea leaves.
You’d done so well that day, fighting for the kids she hadn’t be able to be there for. Finding you in the precinct with a group of them, keeping them distracted and entertained as they waited for the parents to come find them, she’d let herself watch you. Even now she could see you. All soft smiles and patience, sweet voice and twinkling eyes. That image was burned in her head.
The knock on the door broke her form the replay of your actions that day. Standing, she opened the door, offering money to the delivery man before taking the food back inside. Sitting, she unpacked it, knowing she’d ordered more than she needed. But clutched in her hands was your favourite and she couldn’t even remember ordering it.
She ate the entire thing, working out why you loved it so much. It was almost like having you there with her. It was a surprisingly comforting thought.
Trying to impress you
Olivia wasn’t one to spend a lot of time in the gym. She’d done enough to always get through the physicals she had to, but it wasn’t her preferred hobby. That was, until she’d found out you liked to go down there when you were especially frustrated with a case to try and work it out of your system.
You were on the treadmill, steady pace as you glared. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head. Doing her best to act as if she wasn’t paying attention to you, she walked past, heading to the weight station.
She was strong. She knew she was. She wanted you to know it too.
Warming up, she glanced over her shoulder to find your head titled as you watched her. She shot you a small smile before she turned away, pretending to focus on her own workout.
She couldn’t understand the burning desire to show off in front of you. But she was willing to indulge it, if only to take the edge off so she could focus on the case too.
Taking her place at the bench press, she lay down. She focused on the weight in her hands, muscles working. It was easy to ignore your presence, even if she wanted to know if you were watching.
“Shouldn’t you have someone spotting you?”
She heaved the bar back onto the stand before sitting up. You were standing by her, sweat slicked skin and bright eyes, staring down at her.
“I’m fine,” she said, wiping the back of her hand over her forehead.
“Really? Because with weights like this you could do some serious damage,” you said, finger running along the bar her fingers has so recently been curled around.
“I can handle it,” she said.
“And as impressive as that is, I’ll just be wracked with guilt if I saw this and did nothing and you had an accident,” you said.
“You think I don’t have this?” she asked, a scoff of a question.
“Maybe.” You shrugged, “or maybe I just wanted an excuse to get a closer seat to the show.”
Heat spread over her skin. She lay back down, not having a smart remark, having gotten essentially what she wanted. You were completely focused on her as she showed off her strength. There was something addictive about doing it under your watchful gaze.
Gazing at you
Your head tipped back, the laugh on your lips light and airy. Your hair caught the morning light, shining like something out of a dream. Your lips were curled up in a delighted smile, all soft edges and sweet curves.
Olivia felt her heart constrict just looking at you, chin resting in the palm of her hand, pen clutched loosely in the other. She’d been watching long enough to know she was procrastinating her paperwork. You were a nice distraction.
You shook your hair back from your face. Leaning over, her eyes caught on the way the neckline of your shirt dipped. Shadows and light played over your skin and she found herself hypnotised. She couldn’t look away.
You were so beautiful.
Someone passed between you and her, breaking her gaze. Shaking her head, she looked back down at her report. It was hardly as captivating as you were.
A movement in her periphery, her eyes darted back up, finding you as you turned towards her. Your gaze landed on her and she watched as your lips pulled up on one side. She should have been embarrassed, being caught watching you. She would have.
But your eyes swept over her and she found herself preening. Leaning back, she offered more of herself to your gaze. She didn’t even think about it. She wanted you looking at her the way she looked at you.
A blaze of heat went through her.
Your smirk only made it worse. Turning away from her, she let the disappointment fade away, eyes lingering on you. There was no reason you should be so captivating, but she was finding it hard to look away.
She always seemed to find it hard to look away from you.
Seeking you out
Olivia was staring at the board, the faces of the victims staring back at her. Arms crossed over her chest, her lips pursed. Elliot was at his desk, watching her with that heavy gaze that always made her skin itch, like he could see more than she wanted him to.
You had taken the morning off. Something about an appointment you couldn’t get out of. Curiosity had been eating away at her all morning. Then, when you’d breezed in, it was with a cheery hello, nothing more. Now, sequestered upstairs, she could feel your presence even if she couldn’t see you.
“What’re you thinking?” Elliot asked.
Something he wouldn’t appreciate hearing.
“Didn’t someone have something on the fingerprints?” she asked.
“Yeah.” His eyes darted up to where she knew you were sitting.
It was all the excuse she needed.
You looked up from the food you were in the middle of consuming, a sub from the bodega down the street. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you grinned. Something in her chest calmed, while butterflies erupted in her stomach.
“What’s up?” you asked, leaning back.
Something in her chest settled seeing you. She straddled the chair across from you, eyes sweeping over you. You let her without question.
“You had the report with the fingerprints, right?” she asked.
“Sure, it’s sitting on my desk,” you replied.
She watched you suck on your fingertip, tongue flicking over it to remove the sauce before you reached for a napkin. With your hollowed cheeks and your pretty eyes watching her, heat skittered over her skin.
“You need help finding it?” you asked.
“Your desk is a mess,” she said, letting herself smile at you.
“Organised chaos,” you shot back, “c’mon Benson. Surely you can find a measly file on your own.”
“Indulge me,” she said.
“I always do.” Your hand lingered on her shoulder as you passed by.
“Subtle,” Elliot said as she walked past, following you back to your desk.
She ignored him, the idiot, refusing to admit to what he was saying. Or implying. Wanting you to join them help put another predator behind bars wasn’t weird. It didn’t have to mean anything.
It didn’t.
Protective
The man shouldn’t have even managed to get into the building. Let alone with a gun. He should have been stopped before he could even enter the building. Someone was going to have their ass handed to them.
But he was practically foaming out the mouth, shouting for someone, his face a splotchy red.
Olivia had been standing with you, grabbing a cup of coffee, chatting about your plans for the weekend. She wouldn’t say she’d been fishing for information but she did keep prodding for answers. She was curious about what you got up to outside of work. There was no way she would admit to thinking about it as often as she did.
At first, she’d ignored the shouting, nudging you to keep talking. With her eyes on you, it was easy to block out the rest of the world. You smiled and she found herself leaning closer.
When the first shot rang out, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
It was instinct, the way she reached out, forcing you down. Her body covered yours, eyes scanning over the precinct, trying to find where the shots were coming from. Your fingers curled around her forearm, digging in.
She crowded you back against the wall, hidden under the table. A roar punctured the air. She could feel the tremble in your body, keeping herself between you and the danger. She wasn’t about to let anything happen to you.
He crashed through the doors, huge and imposing, lunging forward as he screamed. Your sharp inhalation of breath was loud to her ears, even with the rage. The gun in his hand was being waved around indiscriminately.
It was Elliot who took him down. Of course it was. Testosterone meets testosterone.
She extended a hand to you, helping you to your feet once the man had been disarmed and thrown in lock up. She could feel the tremble in your hand. When your gaze met hers, it was wide eyed, the glisten of tears already receding.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” you said, hand hitting her bicep.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Put yourself in danger,” you said.
She might be able to tell your legs were shaking, but your lips were pressed together and you were fierce. It took her breath away.
“Reflex,” she said with a small shrug.
“I can’t have anything happen to you,” you said, “what would I do if it did?”
Something warm bloomed in her chest.
Butterflies
You laughed, bright and happy, fingers curling around the drink she’d just deposited in front of you. Closing a case always brought out this lighter side in you, like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you could breathe again. She slid into the booth beside you.
Your thigh was pressed against hers, shoulder brushing her. You were leaning over the table, uncaring of how sticky it was from spilled beer and drunken antics. Elliot was leaning back, debating you about the joys of living in a dorm at college.
“You’re coming at it from the perspective of a father,” you said.
“Well, I have to,” he said back.
“Consider how much growing your kids will go through. They’ll learn to be adults when they don’t have the crutch of you and Kathy to fall back on,” you said.
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he said.
“Wouldn’t it be nice not to do their laundry?”
He just raised an eyebrow at you.
“Liv, back me up here.”
You turned to her, grinning right in her face. It happened in a moment, the flutter of something exploding in her stomach. She blinked, looking down at you, not sure what to do with the feeling. You were still smiling. Each bump of your shoulder only made it worse.
You turned away, but your hand landed on her thigh as you tried to lean further over the table, using it to steady yourself. It was like a shot went off in her heart. It was making it impossible to follow the conversation.
“None of you are fun,” you said, falling back in your seat, reaching for your drink, letting her leg go.
“Or maybe we all appreciate not living in close quarters with other young people,” Munch said.
“I guess I’m the only one who had any fun in college,” you said.
Your hand landed back on her thigh as you shifted, the butterflies going crazy in her stomach. She lent into it, letting herself feel every flap of their wings. With you, it was a pleasant feeling.
Leaning closer
Sitting together in the car, Olivia was doing her best not to keep glancing over at you. Your gaze was trained out the windshield, staring at the front door of the building the both of you were watching. She’d found herself doing that a lot, stealing glances at you when you weren’t likely to look back.
“Who do I have to screw to get a place like this?” you asked, “sorry, that’s not appropriate. Ignore me. I’m tired.”
“Someone with a lotta money,” she replied.
You turned to look at her, lips already pulling up into a smile. She could see how tired you were, dark circles beneath your eyes. It was the early hours of the morning, still dark enough for the street lamps to be lit. She liked you like this, a little loose, a little less filtered than usual.
She liked seeing the inside of your brain.
“Know where I can find one of them?” you asked.
“If I knew that I wouldn’t be out here. I’d be in there, sleeping easy,” she said.
“No you wouldn’t,” you laughed.
She laughed too, finding herself tipping towards you. You were already leaning towards her, head bent like your conversation was intimate. Her eyes dipped down to your lips then back up. Your fingers brushed over the back of her hand.
“You could never give up this job,” you said, voice quiet, “you’ll never stop fighting for the victims.”
She found herself falling into the well of your gravity. You were looking at her like she was something impressive, something wonderful, and she found herself drawing closer. She wanted to feel the heat of your skin, the heat of your gaze, the heat of your admiration.
“That guy look shifty to you?” you said, breaking her out of her thoughts, your gaze having strayed over her shoulder.
She turned away, only just realising how close she’d grown to you. She hadn’t even noticed how far she’d lent towards you. And yet she had known she wanted to be closer.
It was probably for the best that the suspect decided then to try and sneak out. She didn’t have to investigate her feelings if she was distracted by the job.
At least that’s what she told herself.
Blushing
“Yeah yeah,” Olivia called to whoever was trying to hammer her door down.
She’d just closed a case, returning to her apartment to try and catch up on all the sleep she’d lost from her nights awake hunting the sick bastard who did that stuff to those women. Halfway to sleep, the knocking on her door was unappreciated. She was going to kick the ass of whoever had interrupted.
She pulled open the door, coming up short when it was you on the other side.
“Hey, sorry, I know it’s late,” you said.
It was the early hours of the morning but she wasn’t going to get pedantic with you.
“I just… I didn’t want to be alone tonight and so I came here,” you said, “I can go.”
“No, no.” She held the door open wider for you, “come in.”
You slipped past her into her apartment and she could see the heavy slump in your shoulders. You dropped onto her couch, a long sigh passing over your lips.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. We got the guy so I should be fine but every time I close my eyes I just see…” You passed a hand over your face.
“It happens. Some cases stick with us more than others,” she said, sitting beside you.
You fell towards her, head coming to rest on her shoulder. Your cheek pressed to the bare skin of her shoulder, warm and soft and lovely. The weight of it was comfortable. Her irritation dissipated, enjoying the feel of you there with her.
“You’re so good at this,” you sighed.
“Good at this?” she asked.
“Catching the bad guys, not letting it fuck you up,” you replied, “making me feel okay.”
“You are okay,” she replied, finding her fingers running through your hair.
You sat up, turning to look at her. Drawing your legs up, you rested your chin on your bent knees, your gaze sliding along her bare skin. She let you look your fill, not sure what you were seeing.
“How are you still so gorgeous even when you’re woken up in the middle of the night?” you asked, almost a sigh, a small laugh at the end, “it’s just not fair.”
She laughed, even as her cheeks heated. Shaking her head, she let her hair fall forward, hiding her blush from you. Your fingers ran along her forearm, more of a brush than a touch. Peeking up at you, she found you leaning closer.
“I bet you get told all the time, but you really are beautiful,” you said.
She felt herself blush harder.
“Sorry for coming here and waking you up,” you whispered, “you were the only one that was going to make me feel normal again.”
“You know you’re always welcome,” she said.
“Especially if I keep complimenting you?” you asked, lips pulling up into a small smile.
“Those don’t hurt,” she replied.
“Then I think you should know, this nightgown is making it hard to focus on your face,” you said.
Your fingers brushed the silk of her nightgown, right over the warmth of her thigh. Her face was on fire and your eyes were sparkling.
“It’s very pretty,” you murmured.
“Flatterer,” she scoffed.
You pulled back, curling up enough to rest your head on the back of the couch as you gazed at her.
“You mind if I crash on your couch? I know there’s not exactly a plethora of hours left tonight but… my place is too quiet,” you said.
“Let me get you a blanket.”
When she lay down in her own bed, the light from her living room chasing away the dark, she listened to the sound of you settling, wondering if her proximity gave you any comfort. She hoped it did.
Finding excuses to touch you
Olivia’s fingers were soft as they reached out, gently moving your hair out of your face. It had fallen as you’d lent forward, eyes scanning over the file she’d placed on your desk. You glanced up, lips quirking up into a smile. She snatched her hands away, clutching the edge of your desk as she lent against it.
Her fingers itched from the feeling of your soft skin against her fingertips. She was still close enough to feel your warmth. You weren’t even looking at her and she felt the impulse to reach out again.
You looked up at her again, from under your eyelashes.
“Good catch,” you said, “but look at this pattern.”
Her hand rested on your back as she lent forward, looking at the file with you. You lent into her touch, your cheek coming to rest on her bicep. Her heart stuttered in her chest, but you didn’t seem to even notice.
It was like the long nights when her head would drop onto your shoulder. She wouldn’t even think about it, tired and eyes itching, head heavy, sinking into you. When her defences came down she sought out your warmth, wanting to feel you breathe beneath her.
“Gonna go bring him in?” you asked.
You were gazing up at her, lips curling up in a small smile that had her head swimming. Her fingertips brushed over your cheek, brushing your hair away again. You lent into her touch, just until she snatched her fingers away again.
Something warm bloomed in her chest along with embarrassment.
“Good job,” she said before she swept out of the precinct to pick up the perp.
Feeling hot around you
A wolf-whistle rang out across the precinct. It was late enough that the place wasn’t busy. Olivia’s head snapped up, eyes darting from Elliot to the where his gaze was focused. He was leaning back in his seat, grinning as he turned his head towards her.
You were waving away the whistle, a shy smile on your face. In the floor length dress, clinging in all the right places, you were a thing of beauty. She found her breath tumbling over parted lips. A rush of heat went through her, leaving her reeling.
“I take it you’re not going to chase down our suspect,” Munch said.
“Not unless he happens to show up at the restaurant I’m going to. Or the show,” you said with a small shake of your head.
“Hot date?” Elliot asked.
“You offering?” you shot back.
You paused by Olivia’s chair, hip cocked, hand coming to rest on the back of it. You were close enough she could smell the scent of your perfume clinging to your skin. Her skin was heating just from having you so close dressed like that. Looking like that. Leaning forward just enough to draw her eyes to the shadow of the curve of your breast.
Heat washed over her. She felt sweat gather at the skin on the small of her back, climbing up the back of her neck, spreading across her chest. You weren’t even looking at her, resting against her desk as you talked to the boys. But she was so aware of you there, right in touching distance.
“Right, well, try not to have too much fun without me,” you said.
Your chin dipped down, catching her gaze. The wink you shot her went right through her, warmth spreading in her lower stomach.
“Have fun,” you said, voice lowering just for her.
Elliot was giving her another very knowing look once you’d disappeared into the Manhattan evening.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’re looking a little flushed there. Feeling hot under the collar?” he said, that self satisfied grin on his stupid mug.
“Go chase up the ME report.”
His laughter haunted her, cooling the fire you’d left in her veins.
Craving your attention
“And why would they do that?”
Olivia was watching you from her desk, pen clenched between her teeth. You were sitting on Munch’s desk, feet continually kicking at his chair as you stirred your coffee.
“To keep the masses from realising they hold the power to control their destiny in their hands,” Munch replied, “wake up to the group mind think they force us to live in.”
“Sure but… why?” you asked.
The curl of your lips told her you were teasing him, just feeding into his conspiracy theory riddled mind. Still, she would have liked for you to be playing with her instead. She could be just as fun.
“Mass control of the population lets them test experimental drugs for biowarfare in third world countries,” he replied.
“Right. So why did they kill JFK?” you asked.
You didn’t even look at her.
“He was going to shake things up. Watch the way people responded to him. They loved him. He was going to end the mass control before they could pump chemicals into our drinking water,” he replied.
Why weren’t you looking at her?
“Now I’m being poisoned too? When will the madness end?” You scrunched up your nose at him.
Why weren’t you asking her?
“When we can all see the truth they work so hard to obscure,” he said.
She watched you make eye contact with Fin, a shared eye roll she wasn’t invited to partake in. Why wasn’t she invited? Why were you ignoring her? Had she done something to piss you off?
“Keep making that face but you’ll wish you had your freedom soon,” Munch said.
She wanted you to look at her.
“And when I do, you’ll be my first port of call,” you said, patting him on the shoulder.
She wanted you to touch her.
“Now, I’m going out for lunch. If you need me, no you don’t,” you said.
She wanted to get lunch with you.
You left her disappointed. Sweeping out of the precinct, she felt herself stewing in her want. She felt itchy, a desperation clawing up her throat, choking her with want. She wasn’t used to this feeling, a craving she couldn’t seem to sate. No amount of your attention was ever enough, even when she gorged herself on it.
She wanted to drown in it. To revel in it. To let herself split apart from how much of it she received.
Being denied was a feeling she wasn’t able to reconcile. An ache in her bones, a pang in her gut, a twist in her heart.
She was driving herself mad.
Flirting
Sliding into the chair across from you, Olivia glanced down at the paper you were reading.
“Defenestrate. Three down.”
You glanced up, the smile ready on your face. Her foot nudged yours under the table.
“Smarty pants,” you said, but it was so soft it made her heart squeeze.
A flash of blue had her reaching out, grasping your hand. With a soft brush of her fingertip, she smeared the ink stain on your skin.
“Having fun there?” you asked, a slight prod, teasing her as her finger continued to trace over your skin.
“I can think of something more fun to do with you,” she replied.
Your gaze swept over her as she looked up at you from under her eyelashes. Your eyes were sparkling, badly hidden amusement on your face.
“Did you need something from me, detective?” you asked, voice lowering.
She lent closer, her fingertips finding the pulse in your wrist. She could feel it thrumming, fast enough to let her know you weren’t as cool as you appeared. You pressed your wrist more firmly into her touch.
“Am I making you nervous?” she asked, almost a whisper, forcing you to lean closer to catch her words.
“Beautiful women always make me nervous,” you replied.
You were so much better at this than she was.
Her fingers returned to your hand, threatening to intertwine with yours. Her foot nudged at yours again, a gratified purring in her chest when you let yours rest against hers. You were leaning closer, that small smile on your lips ruining her.
“Must be difficult when you look in the mirror then,” she said.
You laughed, soft and beautiful and fond. Your hand moved forward, linking your fingers through hers. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
“How about you follow me home so you can find out?” you said.
You were definitely better at this than she was.
“Gonna protect me from all the big bad beautiful women?” you asked.
“How about some hands on exposure therapy?” she suggested.
“Careful, Liv, or I’ll think you’re serious,” you said.
You flipped your newspaper over to her as you drew your hand back. Standing, you shot her a wink before making your way down the stairs. She looked down at your half finished crossword.
Maybe she was beginning to be serious.
Getting jealous
The air of celebration was palpable. The sick pervert had been put away for a long time and the team had rolled into the usual bar. You were grinning from ear to ear, your laughter coming easy, shoulders loose and light.
And you were talking to Alex.
Olivia had been keeping half an eye on you through the night, the itch to monopolise your attention back. You were so beautiful when you were full of joy. She wanted to celebrate with you.
Instead, you’d ended up in a shadowy corner, Alex’s lips at your ear as she whispered something to you. Your smile was naughty, and when you laughed it was throaty.
Heat crept over Olivia’s skin and something in her stomach clenched. Her fingers tightened around the glass of her beer. You tipped your head closer to Alex, dragging your eyes up to meet hers as a smirk flirted with the corner of your lips.
Alex’s hand reached out, making contact with yours, sliding up, lingering longer than was appropriate. You shifted your weight, growing closer to her. When you took a sip from your own drink, she watched blue eyes focus on your mouth.
“That’s a sour look for someone who just took another perv off the street.”
It was a struggle to tear her eyes from you, focusing on Elliot again. The look he was giving her was so full of understanding it almost made her hit him. She didn’t like the clawing feeling in her chest. The whole thing was getting ridiculous.
“Mind your own damn business,” she said.
“Bet you wouldn’t be saying that to her,” he said, lifting his drink in your direction.
“You don’t know that,” she said.
You laughed again, stealing her attention and her gaze. Alex tucked your hair behind your ear, unaware of the daggers Olivia was glaring at her. You fluttered your eyelashes at her.
“Good thing looks can’t kill,” Elliot muttered, “although it looks like Alex might need witness projection again.”
“Keep talking like that and you’ll need it,” she snapped.
“Touchy,” he said, hiding his knowing smirk behind the neck of the bottle as he drank.
She drained the last of her beer then slammed the bottle down on the bar. Ignoring his continued prodding, she strode towards you. Your gaze was lazy as it dragged to her, your smirk deepening.
“I need to talk to you,” she said through gritted teeth.
“We’re in the middle of-“ Alex began to say before you cut her off.
“Sure.”
Olivia held Alex’s eye, a sense of triumph filling her. Your hand slipped into hers, tugging until she turned away, leading you somewhere more private. Somewhere you wouldn’t be interrupted. Somewhere she could be alone with you. The back corner of the bar. Away from prying eyes.
“What’s up?” you asked, leaning against the wall, looking up at her.
“You and Alex,” she said.
“What about me and Alex?” you asked.
She gave you a look, unimpressed, not playing games with you. She didn’t have the patience. Not as her heart began to tear itself apart just remembering the way the blonde had touched you.
“Am I not allowed to have other friends?” you asked, “or am I not allowed to flirt with other women?”
“So you were flirting?” she asked.
“I didn’t know I had a reason not to,” you said.
That shut her up pretty quickly.
“Liv.” Your voice softened, “what’s going on?”
She hated the pity, the softness, the uncertainty. It scrapped against the jagged edges of the sharp feeling in her chest. Shoving your shoulders against the wall, she looked down at you, really taking you in. She let herself feel it all, all the things she’d been pushing down for months, all the little things she’d begun to take notice within herself, all the things that led back to you. And all you did was look up at her with your pretty eyes and pretty lips, waiting, waiting so patiently.
So she kissed you.
Luckily for her, you kissed her back, hands sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. You didn’t try to stop her or question her. All she knew was that she’d been wondering what it would be like to kiss you for longer than she’d been able to admit to. And now she was.
You sighed into her mouth, such a nice sound it made her kiss you deeper. You were so soft against her, even as you kissed her with a mouth she hadn’t known you’d possessed. Dirty and hot, making her feel weak and desperate, even as you gave her what she wanted. She wanted more.
You made her greedy for things she couldn’t put into words.
She whimpered when you drew away, wanting more, ever more, from you. You were looking at her like she was something precious, like you were blowing her mind, like you understood her hunger.
“Liv,” you sighed.
“Can’t we just?” She lent forward to kiss you again.
You laughed, your hands on her shoulders keeping her back. The sharp sting of rejection bit at her skin until she saw the way you were gazing at her. Your fingers were soft as you tugged on the ends of her hair, fond and easy.
“I’m afraid I’m going to be annoying and ask you what’s going on again,” you said.
“I…” She didn’t have an easy answer.
“Is it maybe that you don’t want me flirting with anyone who isn’t you?” you prompted.
“No, you’re allowed to flirt with whoever you like,” she said.
“But you’d like it if it was you I wanted to flirt with,” you said, not asking, the confident tilt to your head both frustrating and endearing.
“You’re not making this easy on me,” she said.
“I really like you Liv, but I thought I wasn’t your… type,” you said.
“I’m beginning to think I don’t know what my type is,” she said.
Your fingertips brushed over the apple of her cheek, gentle in a way she wasn’t used to. With men, it wasn’t quite like this. It wasn’t so… soft.
It was hard to believe she’d been living without this for so long.
“All I know is that the way I feel about you can only mean one thing,” she said.
pairing: dennis whitaker x reader x trinity santos
summary: after a nasty breakup with yolanda garcia, trinity loses much more than love, she loses her confidence. good thing she has you and whitaker to help her take it back
word count: 12.1k
warnings: smut, 18+, language, reader and dennis are in an established relationship, bisexual trinity (?), peeping tom behavior from trinity, unprotected sex, threesome, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, mainly porn without much plot, pet names like 'baby' i'm sorry i know some people hate it but it came to me organically, this is a smut fic im not coming up with a witty nickname, nipple play, honestly it's pretty regular, good old sex there isn't anything too wow, no hard kinks in this fic, minimal cum play i guess, do i have to add that there's lesbian sex if its a fmf threesome(?), well there you have it just in case
a/n: you know that shift in hormones that has you acting a little crazy? yeah, well i went through that early this week. the worm in my head whispered a really outrageous and horny idea and then proceeded to scream 'feed me!' nonstop
so ladies and gentlemen, get your pearls and get ready to clutch them. yes i know this is ooc not only for the characters but myself as well, but i couldn’t stop thinking about it, sue me. i am not proud but it had to.
i am done. don’t expect any smut from me in the next 6-8 months. i’m at my limit. im only good at writing smut twice a year. i need to chug holy water after this
isa if you’re here, don’t read i beg you.
Dennis Whitaker kept you all to himself at first. He wanted to get to know you and give you the opportunity to get to know him, without any remarks from his friends or colleagues clouding your judgment. You held yourself with such confidence, and he wanted to match that energy. You didn't act like he was out of your league, in fact, you had been extremely kind and that attitude only made him want to try harder. He couldn't fumble the chance to have you be his.
The support he’s received at Pitt has made him much more confident than he was as a med student or even an intern. At the same time, he’s no stranger to the remarks about him being clumsy or having shit luck or being awkward. A lot of it came from his roommate, who he now considers his best friend.
So when he started dating you, he carried the calm, quiet confidence he gained in the ED and left the insecurities at the door. He had to, or else you would see him as the others did, and he liked you too much to screw his chances up. For a while, it worked, but like all things, his true colors showed, and that’s when you truly fell for him. Sad eyes and shit luck included. It simply gave you so many more opportunities to cheer him up and brighten his day. It didn’t take away from the fact that he’s a hard-working man, brave enough to work in a trauma center. He saves lives on a daily basis, and that’s more than enough for you. The struggles Dennis faced in the past made him the person he is now. They never made him give up on his dream of becoming a doctor. That determination and drive made you fall over heels for him, so he had nothing to fear.
With time, he introduced you to Trinity Santos, the snarky roommate who took him in once upon a time. You and Trinity hit it off pretty easily. You earned her respect when you so subtly defended Dennis with a jab towards her. Trinity accepted it gracefully. There would be occasions where you and Dennis would be joined by Yolanda and Trinity in double dates. Other times, it was simple hangouts at the bar with Victoria, Trinity, Mateo, and whichever medical student had earned their respect. Slowly, he integrated you into his world, and neither of you has looked back.
You were the first call Trinity made when Yolanda broke it off with her. She allowed you to be there with her as she cried on your shoulder repeating the cruel words the surgeon told her. She is too much. Too intense. It was fine as a casual situation, but she doesn't see a future with Trinity. Too impulsive. Yolanda felt suffocated by her constant presence.
Trinity would instantly deny it if you were to mention her vulnerable state to anyone. Very few people had the opportunity to see her in such a way and she would very much prefer if it stayed that way; luckily for her, she had you and Dennis on speed dial. Or across the hall in some instances.
Trinity continued acting like her usual self, masking her pain with sarcastic humor and awful nicknames. Her job remained flawless, but beneath it all, on a personal level, her confidence had been damaged. Yolanda really hurt your friend and Trinity lost a piece of herself in the process. Getting it back has been far from easy. So every chance you got, you tried to cheer her up and encourage her to get back on the market. Visits to pretentious coffee shops, gay bars, bookshops, music festivals, and any place that had a space for someone like Trinity.
She was approached constantly by beautiful women of all kinds. She could choose whatever flavor she preferred that day, yet it never went far because in the back of her head Yolanda's words kept replaying, getting louder each day she spent alone.
Trinity didn't get any action but she did get a good laugh as gay men approached Dennis, promising sexual favors while he choked on his drink. It basically forced you to station yourself in his lap or between his legs as he held onto your waist. “I gotta protect my man,” you would say, throwing your arms over his shoulders while he rested his head on your shoulder, shoulders shuddering with laughter and embarrassment.
In one of those bars, late into the early hours of the morning, is when she finds out you swing both ways, or used to. A friend who you haven’t seen since Uni approached you, drunk out of her mind, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you since forever!! Come dance with me, let’s revive old memories.” She said with a splitting grin and lust-filled eyes. She looked you up and down, briefly stopping at your exposed legs.
“I’m here with my boyfriend, Taylor,” you laugh awkwardly, waving her off. Dennis would lightly squeeze your shoulder, finding humor in it.
“Oh pity, you’re still into men,” she stomps, but then she’s quickly swooped away by her friends, who offer apologetic smiles.
“Wait, you’re bisexual?” Trinity laughs, shaking off the shock of the interaction. “Huckleberry, did you know?”
“Mhm, she told me during one of our first dates,” Dennis nods, playing with the strap of your sparkly blouse.
“I wouldn’t call myself bisexual,” you say over the pounding of the bass. Trinity stares at you as she takes a drink of her vodka cran, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I’ve only ever been in relationships with men; I’ve been with women, but mostly in a casual setting. I guess I was exploring when I was in Uni.”
“And your catholic self isn’t scandalized by that?” She throws the questions at Dennis, who shakes his head, baffled.
“There’s a reason I moved away from home, Trinity. Besides, I live with you. I’d say you desensitized me to all of that,” Dennis admits, to which Trinity accepts.
The Santos + Whitaker apartment had become your home. You were so familiar with the space that you could navigate it in the dark, knowing Dennis had left his bag by the coffee table and that Trinity almost always left her sneakers by the couch. All because you were thoughtful and didn’t want Dennis driving all the way to your place when he was exhausted after a grueling shift.
There are moments where hormones are acting crazy, and you retreat to your apartment, where you can enjoy Dennis and his skills without inhibition. You didn’t quite care as much about your downstairs neighbor hearing you as you did about having Trinity go through that. She would never let either of you live it down, even if in the past you had to experience her and Yolanda's rendezvous through the thin walls of the apartment.
That being said, when duty calls, you answer happily. You just have to bite the back of your hand, or preferably any part of Dennis you can reach, to keep quiet. The little sneak enjoys it too. Pittsburgh has corrupted the Nebraska boy he used to be. The feeling of your teeth on his bicep shouldn’t have him cumming that easily.
“Shh, baby, we can’t have Trinity hearing us,” he pleads, pressing his lips on yours in a sloppy kiss. Your hands are intertwined with his as his hips press yours to the bed. As he finds the sweet spot, you gasp and bite down on his shoulder, a soft squeak and a grunt being the only sound. “Dennis,” you whine, riding out your high. His sweaty forehead pressing against yours, his hot breath on your skin.
Everything shifted one Fall night. Trinity was supposed to be out on a date, so you and Dennis desperately retreated to his bedroom. You were careless not to acknowledge that the door didn’t fully shut. Dennis had teased and edged you for an hour on the couch alone; if Trinity knew, she would’ve murdered you both and forced you to get a new couch. Now, you’re naked, sitting fully on Dennis's lap with his cock deliciously nestled inside of you. You grind your hips, loving how your clit rubs on the blonde patch of hair on his pelvis. Dennis lets you use him to your pleasure as he sucks bruises on your chest and plucks your nipples into his mouth.
Grabbing onto his shoulders, you begin riding him properly, moaning at the sensation of his cock nearly sliding out of you completely before he fills you back up. “I love your cock, Dennis, love how it’s all mine,” you pant into his ear. You lean your head back in pleasure when he bucks up to meet your pace, but as you open your eyes, you notice the door slightly open and green eyes peering in from the shadows.
“God, Baby,” Dennis moans when you unconsciously clench around him, grinding in his lap. It shouldn’t turn you on to have your friend watching like a peeping tom, but in your lust-filled haze, it thrilled you. Like a peacock you spread your feathers, you arched your back just a bit more, undulated your hips seductively, and made sure she heard about how good Dennis was pleasing you.
Trinity is frozen by the sight. It’s so fucking wrong, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. Her date stood her up, so she stopped at the convenience store to get snacks and food to share with you and Dennis when she inevitably hijacked the TV to play Love is Blind.
She mainly looks at you, enjoying yourself in the throes of pleasure. For the first time, she also sees Whitaker in a different light. There’s curiosity bubbling up along with guilt. She’s not upset she got stood up. The sick part of her is happy about it because she got to see that spectacle. The logical part is begging her to stop and look away, it's wrong in so many levels. She eventually listens, tearing her eyes away, leaving the apartment again with a soft click of the door like she never came back early.
You debate on not telling Dennis, what good will it do? You promised him full honesty, though, and this should be a warning to be more careful. “Hey, Den,” you softly speak. You’re still naked in his bed, head resting on his chest as you trace patterns on his pale skin. The door has been closed for a while now.
He’s drowsy, but still he hums in acknowledgement, brushing your arm with his hand in a soothing manner.
“Trinity might’ve caught us red-handed,” you blurt out, picking yourself up with a hand to his chest.
“Don’t worry, I replaced the sour patch kids.” Dennis misunderstands your worry, thinking back on the other day when you ate the sour candy. Trinity is very serious about her Sour Patch Kids, often arguing with Whitaker when he dips into her stash.
“No, Den, earlier when I was…riding you,” he blushes with a smile, remembering, “Yeah?”
“Focus,” you huff, slapping his chest, “We accidentally left the door ajar, and I caught her looking at us mid-action.”
Dennis' smile falls, sitting up. Cortisol levels rise, and his heart races with worry and embarrassment, “Why didn’t you say something?”
“One, my judgment was clouded because you were hitting the spot, and two, I thought she would leave, but she just stared. She was probably in shock seeing his sweet country boy acting all innocent,” you try to come up with an excuse.
“You were the one riding my cock!” Dennis shoots back.
“Yes, but you were the one to tease me for over an hour!” You point at him with a pout.
Dennis sighs and grabs your pointed hand to kiss your finger. He thinks about it as logically possible, “It was probably an accident, and she definitely left cause she hasn’t made a single sound all this time. Do you want me to talk to her?”
Trinity always has something playing in the background. Music, reality TV, old reruns. The woman can't stand the silence in her apartment. She would never admit that having Whitaker live was a way to help with the stillness in her apartment.
You shake your head, declining his offer. “I think it’s best if we just forget about it. If she brings it up and curses us out, then we own it. Let’s not make it a big deal; we’re all adults. I’m embarrassed, and she probably is too.”
“You’re right. You’re always right,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you to him and kissing your swollen lips. You moan into the kiss, giggling when he places his hand back on his half-erect dick. He’s still a man on his day off with his very naked, hot girlfriend next to him.
“If only they knew you’re really trouble, Dennis Whitaker,” you click your tongue, chastising him. Your grip on him unrelenting.
“They wouldn’t believe you,” he moans, tilting his head back and giving you the perfect opportunity to leave a pretty mark on his neck and ruin his reputation just a bit.
Dennis is a man of science, so it’s logical that he would conduct an experiment. Something didn’t settle right with him when you told him Trinity stared. Not that she just caught you, but she stopped and stared. She’s one of the sharpest in the ED, always jumping on surgical opportunities and incoming traumas. Diagnosis and management spilling from her lips in seconds. It seems strange she would be in that type of shock by a simple act of lust between him and his girlfriend. Hell, she’s the one always starting raunchy conversations to make him blush.
Weeks later, Trinity hadn’t made one joke about the situation. No snarky remark. No humiliating comment. It was not addressed once and that was strange. So Dennis left the door cracked open to see if it would happen again. Trinity casually mentioned she had a headache and retreated to her room. He knew she would come out to look for some ibuprofen any time now. Not telling you about his plan, he swoops you over to his bedroom, seducing you and promising he’d be quiet.
He wanted to be proved wrong. It was all an accident, and Trinity decided that she wasn’t going to humiliate him for once. He had been mortified about Trinity catching him in the act, but the longer he thought about it, the more his perspective changed. He didn’t know what it was, but the prospect of being watched excited him as well.
It started organically, making out, tongues sliding as hands explored bodies they’ve memorized. In a few moments, your panties were off, and Dennis was two fingers deep in you, talking you through it. “You hear how wet you are, baby?” His voice was quiet, raspy, his tongue licking his lips, wishing they were on you instead. Sinful squelching filled the room; it would make a pornstar blush.
“Dennis,” you gasp, trying to hold his wrist, get him to ease up before the knot in your stomach dissolves.
“No, baby, come on, you can give me one like this,” he says, mouth pressed to your cheek as your hair clung to your sweaty skin.
“I want your cock,” you moan, you wanted to cum with him inside you, filling you up. His fingers were great, but you were craving so much more. You needed his weight on you, your legs wrapped around his hips and his cock spreading you open till there wasn't any more space.
“You’ll get it after you cum on my fingers. I promise.” Dennis kisses your jaw.
He had forgotten about his experiment until he noticed a slight change in the shadows. It was momentary but enough to catch his attention. Discreetly, he looks over, and there she is again, Trinity. He gives her a chance. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. She doesn’t flinch. Dennis catches his lips on yours, kissing your cheek till his lips are on your ear, “You’re going to show her how good I can make you cum?”
“Denny!” You cry out, but it’s enough to have you spasming. His fingers are abusing your sweet spot repeatedly. The sound of his hand slapping your skin is getting louder. Dennis makes a show of taking his fingers out and bringing them up to the light, where she can also see, pretending to observe your arousal before he brings them up to your lips, where you greedily suck them clean.
He doesn’t exactly know why he does it. It’s like he has something to prove after years of insecurity. After years of being seen as less than by many people. Dennis wanted to be seen as capable in all aspects, including pleasing his girlfriend.
Trinity is gone moments later.
On a casual coffee date, you bring up the idea to Dennis. If she’s so captivated by you guys having sex, why not have her join once? She’s probably lonely. Yolanda really did a number on her. She needs the confidence to go back out there, and perhaps you and Dennis can give it back to her by making her feel wanted and sexy and like being too much isn't actually too much.
“I don’t know,” Dennis grimaces, playing with his half-empty coffee cup. “Trinity doesn’t seem like the type to be in that scenario, especially with me in the mix.”
“All that Peeping Tom energy has me thinking the opposite,” you say thoughtfully, then you reach for his hand. “Also, maybe she teases you so much because it’s a habit. From what I know, you’re not the same person she first met three years ago."
“Would you really be open to a threesome with Trinity?”
“It wouldn’t be my first time with a girl, and it’s Trinity. It’s no secret she’s hot,” you shrug, drinking your matcha that admittedly tastes like grass, “I don’t know. That time she caught us, both times, it…turned me on.” You admit the last part as your ears and face warm up. You’ve always been open with Dennis, and there’s no one else for you but him, but it would be fun to have an adventure like a threesome.
“I felt like I had something to prove, and it made me feel good,” Dennis admitted as well, playing with the lid of his coffee cup.
“Have you ever felt any attraction for Trinity?”
“First time I met her I thought she was attractive—and mean—but finding out she liked girls I just locked it up and never thought about it again…until now.”
“So should I ask?” You ask, not wanting to cross any boundaries without Dennis consent. This is his roommate and coworker. If you don’t approach it carefully, you could fuck everything up.
Dennis was too curious now. The idea is eating at his brain; it’s no good that you appear to be so into it as well. “Subtly, ease her into it in case it’s all a big misunderstanding.”
“Thinking about it is turning me on,” you confess with a shuddering breath, looking out the big display window.
Your boyfriend is silent for a split second before he bursts out. “Want to go to your apartment?” He was also feeling a certain tightness in his jeans.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” you mumble, picking up your purse and throwing away the matcha cup.
One night Dennis has a shift in the ED, you knock on Trinity’s door, bags of food in your hand. The door opens not a minute later, and you lift the bags with a smile, “I got Thai.”
“Since when do you knock? I thought Huckleberry gave you a key?” She says curiously, but is grateful at the sight of food. She was just contemplating what to eat, menus scattered on the coffee table.
“It’s common courtesy, Trin,” you chime, taking out the containers as she looks for plates and utensils.
Comfortably, both of you settle on the worn couch that has seen too much and put on a movie. Challengers plays in the background, the scene where Zendaya kisses both boys playing.
“They are so out of her league,” Trinity comments, washing down the food with a Coke Zero.
“It’s somewhat realistic. If all three were hot, it would be a different kind of movie,” you muse, eyebrows wiggling.
“Have you ever had a threesome?” You ask, staring only at the screen. It’s not odd for you to talk about sex; it’s a normal conversation between two friends of the same sex. Especially when Trinity used to be very vocal about her sex life.
“In Uni,” Trinity grins, remembering those nights of wild parties and lots of alcohol. She admits she got out of control for a while there.
“Was it like strictly women, or did you dabble with guys?”
“I knew who I was by the time I got to college, still, a guy would slip in there now and then,” Trinity blushes with a cheeky smile as she takes another bite of the food, remembering those days.
“Trinity! You naughty girl,” you exclaim, pushing her shoulder.
“Dennis and I were thinking about it…” You say it shyly to gauge her reaction.
“Having a threesome? You and Huckleberry? Now, that’s shocking.” Trinity snorts as the movie plays. A moment passes before she says, “Who would you even ask? Oh my god, are you making a Tinder profile to look for a third? Can I see?”
“Ew, a stranger? No thanks,” you grimace before your eyes flick to her and then back to your food, “Actually, I was thinking about you.”
Trinity chokes on a piece of chicken. You run over to her, slapping her back and handing her the can of Coke Zero. Trinity goes absolutely red in the face, both from choking and your offer. “What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?” She wheezes, holding her chest, her eyes are wide as she stares at you, bewildered.
You offer her an innocent smile, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were mid bite.”
“Joke's not funny,” Trinity whines, leaning back on the couch to calm her heart. She doesn’t think much of the question or why you’re asking her specifically.
Your quiet voice makes her snap at you, “I wasn’t joking. It’s an honest question, Trinity.”
Trinity's mouth opens and closes, not knowing what to say. From you, she can understand the question, but does Huckleberry know?
“You can say no. It won’t change anything between us. I won’t be offended. It’s totally low stakes,” you offer her a way out, nervously fiddling with your rings.
“Why me?” Trinity asks, mind still reeling at the bomb you dropped, not knowing she would be in deep shit with the next thing you say.
“Well, Dennis and I noticed how recently you’ve been watching us in some quite intimate moments,” you blush, looking at her through your lashes, avoiding direct eye contact.
Trinity nearly turns green, nausea forming in the pit of her stomach, “W-What are you talking about?” The tone of her sentence is higher than usual.
“Hey, it’s okay! We were careless and left the door open; if anything, it’s our fault. Still, we couldn’t help but notice that you were…enjoying the show so to speak,” you purse your lips to hide the nervous smile threatening to break out.
“I-I don’t, no, I didn’t mean to,” Trinity stutters, hiding her face in her hands, refusing to look at you. "I swear it's not what you think. I'm not some sort of pervert." Except, she kinda is.
“Trinity, look at me,” you urge her, grabbing her hand to pry it off her face. She barely meets your eyes, “We’re ready to forget about it if you are. We just thought you might like to have some fun. You’ve been struggling since she-who-must-not be-named hurt you, but if it doesn’t sound like fun, then it’s not, and we move on, and we never talk about it again. You’re a really good friend, and I don’t want that to change.”
“I have to think about it. Let’s just finish the movie,” Trinity clears her throat, piping up ten seconds later, “Wait, the movie choice was a device to bring up a threesome?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” You say sheepishly.
“You’re sneaky and terrifying,” Trinity mumbles.
The rest of the movie plays quietly with no more chatter to drone out the noise, and the food is left untouched. When the credits roll, you decide to go home to give Trinity the space to process and think of a decision. It’s only fair, you bid farewell with another reassurance and apology, squeezing Trinity’s hand goodbye. You take it as a good sign that she didn’t kick you out instantly.
Trinity just about has a panic attack when you leave. She leans against the door and curses herself out. She’s so fucking stupid. Why would she think you and Huckleberry wouldn’t notice? She really didn’t mean to be a creep, but something about the two of you just caught her attention. It turned her on in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. Fuck. FUCK. How dare you just suggest a threesome? With Huckleberry? Dennis Whitaker? Can his catholic guilt even handle that? Is it all a plan to turn her straight?
Trinity thinks he must have had a traumatic brain injury because finding you hot is normal; she’s always voiced how attractive you are, but to find her roommate attractive as well is a new low for her. She didn’t even realize she felt that way until she found Huckleberry sucking on your tits. He was different around you, more confident, and confidence has always been something that she’s found attractive.
She can’t go through with this. She won’t, it’s totally insane. Also, since when does Whitaker want to fuck her? A girl does a nice thing, and there’s a man wanting to fuck them. Except, it’s Whitaker, and he’s not that type of person. Trinity tosses and turns most of the night, barely sleeping a wink. Her alarm is futile in waking her up because she’s already awake when it starts vibrating and ringing.
Her morning routine is automatic. Get dressed, make coffee, pack the backpack, and slip on shoes. A dance she does every morning. Walking into the Pitt and seeing all of the occupied seats brings her peace. She can do this; this is her job, and she’s damn good at it.
Leaving her stuff on her locker and changing into the mandated scrubs, she joins the rest at handout. Whitaker gives her a tired smile, acting as if his girlfriend didn’t just do one of the most fucking brave things in the world. She ignores him for the rest of the handout, and he approaches her after with a tired look, “Careful with the kid in 8, he’s a screamer,” he tells her, expecting a laugh at his expense. When she doesn’t respond and scans her badge to enter the system, he frowns.
“What’s up with you?” He frowns, poking her shoulder, knowing well he shouldn’t annoy her too much before she explodes.
Trinity whips to glare at him, “What’s up with me? What’s up with me? Last night your girlfriend dropped a fucking bomb on me,” she whispers as she looks around to make sure no one’s listening in.
“What?” His face twists in confusion. “You found out she doesn’t like Love is Blind?”
“She what?” Trinity gasps again, “You’re both trying to kill me.”
“Trinity, I just worked a 14-hour shift. Just tell me.” He wonders what has Trinity in such a state. His girlfriend and her get along like two peas in a pod.
Trinity surveys the room again before she pulls him to whisper in his ear, “The fucking threesome.”
Dennis pales, “Oh, that.” He’s doomed. Yup, he’s moving in with you by the end of the week.
“Yes, that,” Trinity hisses, sitting straight when Robby appears.
“Whitaker, go home and sleep. Santos, trauma incoming, you’re with me,” he states, expecting Trinity to be right behind him when the door slides open with a gurney and a blood-soaked patient.
“So, is that a no?” He scrunches his face in confusion.
“It’s an ‘I’m thinking about it still’ because what the fuck?” She whispers-shouts at him, avoiding a man in a wheelchair and finding a pair of gloves on the wall.
Dennis is too tired to stay hung up on the fact that you chose last night to tell her and didn’t prepare him, knowing he would be going home to Trinity. He changes and picks up his bag before heading home and crashing. He’ll worry in the afternoon when he wakes up.
Trinity puts her head down and tries not to think of your proposition. She works all day, focusing on her patients and the traumas that come in through the sliding doors. Her focus is shifted when she sees Yolanda Garcia flirting with one of the new nurses; something twists in her stomach. Hurt. That woman has ruined Trinity. She took something that Trinity had cherished for so long. Turning in the opposite direction, she continues working, the awareness that she's changed has her considering your offer, for real.
Her charts are done when the handout comes back around. Whitaker walks in much more refreshed, his eye bags not as severe as this morning. There’s a coffee cup in his hand that she’s confident he must have gotten with you before his shift. He stands nervously next to her during the shift change, shifting his weight and twiddling with the badge.
“Relax, Whitaker, I don’t bite,” she tells him with a smirk, “Or, I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
Whitaker looks horrified, not expecting that answer, but then he clears his throat and nods. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He shoves the thought of Trinity biting him deep down. The ED is not the time or place. Perhaps, later during his shower.
From an outside perspective, Trinity looks cool, calm, and collected, but inside she’s shitting herself. She can’t believe she said yes to a threesome with you and Whitaker. What has the world fucking come to? She lowkey expects to see pigs flying when she walks out to the dimming sun. Fishing her phone from her pocket, she texts you a simple:
TrinTrin
Alright, let’s do this. You only live once 8:05 pm
You take charge of planning everything. It doesn’t happen instantly; rather, it takes three weeks for your schedules to align. You pick a bar to meet up in, and from there, all three of you will head to Trinity's and Whitaker’s apartment. You figured she’d be more comfortable there than in your place.
You set down the drinks on the table: a vodka cranberry for Trinity, a beer for Dennis, and a gin and tonic for you. You all three stare at each other with nerves that have been festering for weeks. Excitement is mixed in with the shaky hands and fleeting glances. You’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks, Dennis, a testament to that.
“Just to check in,” you begin asking both roommates, “You’re cool with his right?”
“I never thought I'd be in this position, but yes,” Trinity says, tipping back her cup, “Huckleberry?”
“What she said,” he says, his throat dry from nerves. It’s not like he’s been intimate with many women, and bringing another person to your bed is daunting, even if he’s been looking forward to it.
“Breaking the ice here,” you speak, looking at Trinity, “Why were you watching us have sex?”
Trinity chokes on her drink and glares at her as Dennis pats her in the back, “You really have to stop with the questions when there’s food or liquid around.”
You roll your eyes, “Answer the question, Trinity, and don’t say because the door was open.”
Trinity scoffs when her snarky response is shut down, “Why should I?”
“Considering we’re going to have sex after this, it would be nice to know what about us caught your attention,” Dennis replied instead of you.
Trinity looks down at the table and shrugs, “Listen, I really don’t know. The first time, I had just gotten home after being stood up and heard a noise, so I went to investigate to make sure Huckleberry here wasn’t dying and then—.”
“Then what?” He prompts, urging her to keep talking.
Trinity glares at him, poking her tongue in her cheek in annoyance, “I saw you with him, and I thought you looked beautiful, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I enjoyed seeing you both together, it’s a different side of the two of you, and I was attracted to it.”
“I liked that you were watching.” You add, offering an olive branch. She doesn’t have to be ashamed of it. “Not that I’m telling you to keep sneaking on us.”
“Aye aye, captain,” Trinity says, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Whitaker?”
He’s gotten more comfortable with expressing his deep, dark desires thanks to you, but it’s odd to include someone else. Fair is fair. Everyone is opening up. “I kept the door open on purpose. I knew you’d come around, and I wanted to prove it was not an accident.”
“Shit, never could’ve imagined,” Trinity blows out her cheeks with an exhale, “We’re all a little fucked aren’t we?”
“It’s why we’re friends,” you beam, putting your arms over their shoulders to bring them together in a hug.
Your confessions did break the ice. After a second drink, you walk over to the apartment. That’s when Trinity’s hands start to shake; she feels like the odd one out, and it made her nervous. Trinity stands by Whitaker’s door, unsure of her next move. She’s a step closer to the past, both physically and literally. You and Dennis share an intimate kiss, your hands splayed on his shoulders, reaching to tug on the hair in the back of his neck. He’s been letting it grow out into this faux mullet, and you love it for that exact purpose. Dennis presses one hand flat on your back while the other palms your ass.
There’s a soft moan on the back of your throat that has Trinity taking another step forward. Yearning, wanting that closeness. Breaking from the kiss, you smile at her and beckon her over with a tilt of your head. Another step forward, and yet she’s still holding back. You untangle yourself from Dennis, approaching her and cradling her cheek with your hand. “This okay, Trinity?”
Trinity nods, “Yeah,” pressing her forehead against yours, noses brush, and suddenly you’re kissing her. Her hands plant themselves on your hips, squeezing. A testament that this is real. She’s not dreaming anymore. Dennis comes up behind you, kissing your shoulder, observing how his roommate kisses his girlfriend. His lips trail up your neck, feeling your pulse thrum with excitement.
“Is she as good as she boasts?” Dennis has listened to Trinity boast about how good a kisser she is for years. She’s constantly tying a cherry stem into knots to prove a point. Today, he’ll learn if it’s true.
The kiss breaks with a string of saliva between you, and you nod, staring into Trinity’s eyes, pupils blown out, green eyes nearly black. You brush your thumb over her plump lower lip. “She has the right to brag.”
“Didn’t realize all my boasting made you curious,” Trinity says, her eyes briefly flicking over to Dennis. There’s something there she’s reluctant to explore.
You laugh and kiss her again. It’s sloppy and messy, her tongue gaining the confidence to explore your mouth. Dennis's hand explores your skin, undoing the zipper of your dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. His hands stumble with Trinity’s, and it’s like a shock to his nervous system.
He cups your bra-covered breast as his palms glide down your stomach. Fingertips lightly dip into the waistband of your panties, teasing, creating anticipation. Soon, his fingers search for the proof of your arousal, and he quickly finds it. It's warm and sticky, clinging to your skin and the fabric of your underwear. “She’s so wet,” he tells Trinity, who breaks the kiss to find his hands already touching you. You moan against her lips when his fingers trace over your clit.
He takes his fingers out, glistening, and brings them to his lips. He sucks on them, looking straight at her. “You should’ve offered to our guest first," you scold him.
“She’ll have the chance,” Dennis says, and Trinity can’t help but notice how it’s going raspier, lower.
“Are you okay with that, Trinity?” You ask to include her as she simply stares, overwhelmed by the situation. You’re clearly testing the waters, giving her a chance to back up again.
“Yeah, yes,” she breathes, with a soft nod of her head. Lust is quickly invading every cell in her body; it clouds her judgment, making her impulsive.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” you suggest with a hum. Dennis takes a step back as you tug on her shirt, prompting her to raise her arms. You trace the outline of her breast and smile.
Next, the chunky belt she wears with those tight jeans. You caught Dennis checking out her ass earlier today at the bar. Trinity laughs, almost embarrassed at how she has to really shimmy out of them, but you enjoy it. It’s real.
Dennis sits back on the bed, leaning on his hands as he watches. Trinity's gaze flickers to Whitaker. She’ll be damned, she never expected to be doing this. Somehow, the table has flipped, and it’s him and his girlfriend corrupting her.
“You’re so pretty, Trin,” you gasp, kissing her lips briefly, then her cheek, down the slope of her neck, to her shoulder, where you teasingly push her bra strap. “Let’s get this off.”
You cup her breast with your hands, feeling their weight and how her nipples harden with your touch. Your fingers roll her nipple, and Trinity moans. “They’re sensitive,” she tells you. This situation has turned her lower abdomen into a molten pit. She’s now shaking both from nerves and arousal.
You touch her thighs and ass, admiring how firm they are. Years of hard work in gymnastics are paying off. You wonder how flexible she still is. When you brush the pale scars on her thighs, she tenses. “It’s okay, I got you. Nothing to worry about,” you reassure her, kissing her cheek. It serves to steady her as she reaches to touch your skin.
Lastly, you hook your fingers on the skimpy panties she decided to wear, snapping them back against her skin. The purple lace contrasts with her fair skin. “These are cute.”
“You can borrow them if you want,” she raises an eyebrow, trying to come back onto her sarcastic confidence.
“Hear that, Denny?” Looking back at your boyfriend, he’s discarded his shirt, and his hand is visibly pressing on his cock, “Think they would look good on me?”
“I’m more of a visual learner,” he responds, eyes taking in a nearly naked Trinity Santos. His pupils dilate at the vision of his girlfriend and roommate touching each other. His cock throbs almost painfully in his pants. The air in the room is suffocating him in a good way, pushing pheromones into his lungs.
You push the flimsy garment down her legs, and she lets them fall, pushing them away with her foot. You kiss her again, and slowly she begins to relax. You grab her by the waist so she’s flush against you. The skin on skin has her tingling all over; she swears she feels her arousal on her thighs now.
“Let’s get on the bed, yeah?” You grab her hand, leading her to the bed. As she kneels on it, you return to Dennis, kissing him. Trinity can’t help but notice how firm his grip on your body is, without an ounce of uncertainty. She can understand why you’re so hung up on him. Being touched like that is addictive.
Whitaker swiftly unclips your bra, a sign he’s done it hundreds of times, and pulls off your panties. It’s calculated, measured. He doesn’t just pull them down; he pulls you to him with them, dragging them on your skin. His kisses down your chest, catching a nipple in his mouth. You moan and catch her staring. “He’s really good at that.”
Trinity has to touch herself, or she will combust into flames. Her fingers tentatively slide down her stomach and between her legs, just a touch. You watch her with a wicked smile, undoing Whitaker’s jeans and taking out his cock. Trinity gasps as she shamelessly looks down to look properly for the first time. The first time he’d been balls deep in you.
She can’t say she’s ever thought about Dennis Whitaker’s penis, but it surpasses her expectations. He’s blessed to have a good-looking one. Good length, maybe an inch above average, perfect girth to have her squeezing her thighs. A bead of precum forming on the tip.
You grab his hair and pull him away from your chest to join Trinity on the bed. Dennis watches you go with one last squeeze to your ass. He’s still trying to find his place in this threesome. Playfully, you push your friend down, and she laughs, getting into it. You lean down to kiss Trinity, your thigh between her legs, your breast pressed against hers as your hand caresses her warm body. She moans when her clit drags against your skin. “I like hearing you moan. I want more,” you whisper, kissing down her body. Trinity's body is a mix of soft and firm, and you’re enjoying learning that fact as you kiss her soft stomach.
“No,” Trinity shivers, her hand running through your scalp.
“No?” You tilt your head, stopping your descent, lips pressed on her lower abdomen where a healthy layer of chub has accumulated.
“I believe I was promised a taste first.” Her eyes pierce into yours, and she smirks at your surprise.
Your cheeks heat and nod, kissing her stomach one more time before sneaking a glance at Dennis. He’s watching the interaction fully concentrated, his skin turning pink. Your mouth has already been watering at the prospect of eating her out. You would have your chance, you’d make sure of it, but who are you to deny Trinity? It's all about her getting her confidence back, right? Getting on your back, Trinity kisses your neck, softly sucking on the shell of your ear as she looks over to Whitaker, who has a hand around himself. His strokes are sporadic, unrushed.
Trinity’s fingertips draw a straight line from your sternum to your mound, lightly tracing. Still, looking at Whitaker, she spreads your legs and his eyes instantly flick down to your slick center. Trinity huffs, amused as she settles between your legs, bending at the waist to get a taste.
Whitaker chokes a moan at the crude pose in front of him. His wide eyes are trained on his roommate's pussy as it spreads for him. The sight is compelling, he stands next to you guys on the bed, hand reaching to dance on the skin of her back. They go up the back of her neck, down the curve of her back, until he grabs a hold of her ass.
Trinity shivers at his touch, her skin on fire. You run your fingers through her hair, encouraging her to keep going. You were all about touching her first, and she declined. Now, she’s distracted by your boyfriend, but surely not so much as to forget how to please a woman.
She sticks out her tongue and licks a fat stripe up your slit, taking a raw taste of your essence. Trinity quickly goes for seconds and thirds, zoning in on the sensitive nub atop. “Ah, Trin,” you gasp, back arching, but Trinity has a good hold of your thighs. She continues her torturous ministrations until she finally starts sucking your clit, smooth tongue caressing the underside. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, closing your eyes tight.
“Trinity, making you feel good, baby?” Dennis appears at your side, cupping your cheek as you nod, “So good.”
“She likes it when you use your tongue to tease her entrance,” Dennis tells Trinity, who, for once, is quick to listen. Her mouth was sticky with saliva and your juices.
“Oh,” your eyes roll, reaching for Dennis, urging him down to kiss you, swallowing every moan and plea that threatens to fall from your lips. You always did have an oral fixation.
His hand finds yours, and he pushes it down to his pelvis, where you grab his cock. You’re torn between the two of them, flushed face looking down at Trinity, who is focused on your pleasure, ass up in the air, and hand on Dennis’ length, which you pump as he moans, forehead knocking against yours, and hips tittering against you.
Dennis has one hand on your tit, squeezing, and Trinity on the other. You catch her gaze as she gives you a wink. With a wicked smile, she parts your slit with her fingers. You feel the pressure of her fingers threatening to slide in; you’re needy, nodding for her to go ahead. Dennis watches attentively.
It slides right in wet and warm. A second one quickly follows, “I never thought I’d be knuckle deep in your girlfriend, Huckleberry,” Trinity boasts, watching how you’re taking her fingers so well. You’re good at keeping your legs spread for all to watch.
“Don’t get used to it,” Dennis quips, rubbing a hand on your abdomen comfortingly.
You’re too busy chasing that pleasurable sensation to intervene, undulating your hips on her fingers. “I can tell why you like her so much. Doesn’t she sound so pretty?” Trinity says when you moan her name.
It makes something tick in Dennis, but he has no time to explore it. “Shit, babe,” Dennis hisses when you squeeze a little too hard on his cock. It only makes him harder.
Trinity is slow at first, feeling, analyzing until she curves her fingers to find that spot and offer real pleasure, “Right there,” you suck in a whine, hips bucking.
“Right there, baby? Like this?” Trinity talks you through, curving her fingers over and over. Beckoning your orgasm closer and closer.
“Just like that? Don’t stop.” Your hand reaches for Dennis. You needed something to ground you, to stabilize you. Dennis leans next to you, both arms resting on the bed. He tilts his head, watching you bite your lips, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re going to cum over Trin's hand?”
“Yes, please,” your head turns to look at him, pleading as if he has a say. He could have a say, but he lets Trinity have her fun. Some lines haven’t been crossed yet.
“So polite,” Trinity is smug as she speaks, her confidence trickling in little by little. There’s a stubborn short strand of hair covering her eyes. Whitaker reaches out without thinking, tucking it behind her ear.
“Go on,” he rasps.
Trinity bites back a comment about him acting bossy and ducks down again to suck on your clit. She doesn’t quite understand how Dennis bagged such a woman like you. You can’t stay still as you reach for that precious orgasm Trinity is promising. Dennis helps you, pressing a big hand on your abdomen while the other holds your thigh, giving it a squeeze. He has a first row seat to Trinity’s work. Dennis doesn’t mind the lack of attention; just watching his girlfriend and roommate has him leaking.
You give a silent scream, tensing, your legs shaking, before you relax back on the pillows, panting, a smile breaking out as you look between the two of them. Dennis lies next to you, kissing you with Trinity joining your other side, grabbing your chin so you kiss her instead. Dennis kisses down your neck, sucking on your perked up nipple. His hand dips between your legs, exploring. Your hips jerk lightly when his finger tips brush your sensitive clit, then he traces over your messy hole, wet and clenching, and slides two fingers in. Promptly retreating and smearing it on your chest as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.
Trinity keeps noticing how possessive he seems to be of you, even though he agreed to share the bed. It's carefully measured, the good kind.
There’s a pause. A moment of reprieve as you gather yourself. Dennis and Trinity lock eyes before looking away, still too reluctant and shy despite being at their most vulnerable. “Having fun there?” Trinity says lightheartedly, finger dipping lightly on your belly button, which makes you tense and breathlessly laugh.
“Just a little,” you muse, sitting up in bed as you throw her a look over your shoulder, “But now I’m eager to reciprocate, and you can’t stop me.”
“Sure, you don’t need a minute,” Trinity bluffs, knowing she just rocked your world.
“I can multitask,” you chastise her. You’re slotted between her legs, kissing her pouty lips. Your eyes lock, and she gives you an easy smile. You’re glad she eased into it fairly quickly.
You go slow, taking more time than Trinity thought you would. You make a deal of kissing her sweaty skin, memorizing every centimeter of it. Your lips suck on the spot on the swell of her left breast, a light red mark blooming that will purple by the end of the night.
Your fingers touch her scars, and instead of feeling embarrassed, she simply watches you admire them and kiss them. Then, the inside of her thighs, going as far down as her knee, all while Dennis pets your back, the arch of your lower spine, he grabs your hair away from your face when you kiss her pubic mound, admiring the landing strip she shamefully did for you, both of you. She panicked a couple of days ago. Typically, she doesn’t care; a trim is more than enough, but then she started doubting herself, which, no pun intended, landed her on a landing strip.
“Be patient with me, it’s been a while,” you mumble shyly, kissing the crook of her thigh, lightly licking at the spot.
“You’re, um, you’re doing great so far,” Trinity reassures you, the anticipation making her antsy.
She should’ve known you were trouble. Your lips kissed all around her thighs, mound, pussy lips, except where she needed you most. Your sneaky self was teasing her. You topped it off with a small kiss to her clit, which did nothing but have her voice a small complaint in the form of a whine.
Finally, you start tasting her, all while looking up at her with eyes full of mischief. “Ah, baby, what?” Trinity keens, fisting the dark blue sheets on Whitaker’s bed. You sucked and licked till she dripped on your bed, and only then did you really stimulate her clit, pushing back on the hood, “Holy sh-“
A big, strong hand came to her knee when she tried to close them around your head. She looked indignantly at Huckleberry, her eyes tracing up a strong, veiny hand to bulging biceps, and her pussy clenched. You stifled a laugh, knowing exactly the effect he was having on her. The fact that Trinity shared a fair amount of nights with men, but she strictly preferred women, still didn’t mean she was fully immune to their charm.
You insert two fingers into her warm pussy, and an embarrassing moan spills from her lips, completely whiny and pathetic. She covered her mouth, but the hand on her knee moved to her wrist. Dennis shook his head, lightly chastising her.
“I don’t believe it’s been that long for you.” Trinity is baffled by your oral skills. For someone who mentioned not having done this for years and not regularly either, you’re quite talented.
“What can I say, it’s like riding a bike,” you smile, biting your lip.
You take your time with her, memorizing in equal measure what has her pressing against you and jerking away from stimulation. You bring her to the edge only to bring her back down by kissing her thighs. You’re enjoying the experience of edging Trinity. Of having her beg for you to make her cum and then have her whine out your name when you decide not to. You liked being in control of someone like Trinity.
Trinity’s voice nearly goes raw. “Whitaker, do something about your girlfriend before she kills me,” she tells your boyfriend, a truthful plea as you edge her one more time. Her legs are shaking.
You roll your eyes at her but continue. Dennis, who had been sitting back, admiring how you please his roommate, stands to come behind you. Seeing Trinity like this has him aching for some pleasure of his own. His hands grip your hips as he lines his cock against your pussy. You gasp as he pushes in inch after inch. You’re so wet from eating Trinity out, you need no preparation to receive his length. “There we go, baby,” Dennis grunts.
You moan his name against Trinity’s pussy, which makes her gasp and inch slightly closer to you. She wonders how Whitaker fucking you will get her to cum, yet she’d be a hypocrite if she didn’t admit it was doing something for her. Huckleberry isn’t built with tons of heavy muscle, but he keeps in shape, strong arms and shoulders, pecs lightly defined with a lean abdomen, and the fucking cock that hangs from him. No wonder you go dumb when he starts giving you deep thrusts. “Come on, baby, make Trinity cum.”
“Not yet,” you whine, sloppily making out with her cunt. You enjoyed having the girl who loves control under your hand.
“You want to cum you have to make her cum first,” Dennis promises, slapping your ass to prompt you. Trinity is surprisingly honored that he’s defending her in a way.
You don’t respond, getting a better hold of her thighs as your lips wrap around her puffy clit. Your fingers promptly return, trying to keep the same pace Dennis has you on. The sound of skin slapping, along with the squelching of her pussy is erotic. Trinity leans fully back, teasing her nipples and squeezing her breasts. Your moans send ripples through her.
Suddenly, Dennis stops. He leans over you to whisper in your ear, “Go on, baby, make Trin cum all over your fingers. Make her feel good, just like she did to you. I promise you’ll get to cum on my cock after.” Had Trinity not been so pent up, she would’ve gasped.
You’re selfish in the sense that you’re needy and would do anything for an orgasm. With the opportunity for one seconds away, you nod with glassy eyes. Dennis keeps slow, shallow thrusts as you pick up pace and relocate her sweet spot to bring her over the edge quickly.
“I’m so close,” Trinity nearly sobs. Every push and pull had Trinity sucking your fingers in. Dennis pets your hair as you do, supervising that you do as told. Finally, you add more pressure and Trinity titters over the edge, tensing up and nearly screaming out from the pent-up pleasure. You slow your fingers, carrying her through, soft kisses over her pulsing clit. “Oh my god,” she gasps, fisting the bed sheets.
“Just me,” you hum, with one last kiss to her thigh. “Are you okay?”
“I think so?” She hasn’t orgasmed like that in what seems like forever. Her toes and fingers are tingling for some reason. Propping herself up on her elbow, she catches how you straighten up, wet fingers sliding out of her, and Whitaker takes your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so he can clean them off and taste Trinity for the first time. He maintains eye contact through it all. He’s come so far from the homeless med student he used to be.
Trinity’s head is in a daze as she watches him suddenly start fucking you properly, deep and fast. Your eyes close with pleasure. He holds you upright, hand coming to your clit to run over it with tight circles that have you gasping. She’s transfixed with the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way you moan and smile into it, enjoying the controlled attention to your body. Finally, she hears Whittaker’s grunts and gasps as he fucks you, clearly enjoying it. It’s not what she expected, but it’s pleasant. Her pussy, still twitching with the aftermath of an orgasm, drips at the sight.
“I’m gonna cum, Denny,” you gasp, turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips.
Four deep thrusts and pressure on your clit have you gasping. You bend forward, and Dennis carefully places you down right where he picked you up, between Trinity's legs. Your chest heaves with heavy breaths falling from your lips, but still you smile at her.
Dennis is too concentrated on not cumming, but thoroughly enjoying how your pussy molds against him. There’s a ring right at his base from your arousal. Carefully, he pulls out, and you whine at the sensation. He lovingly thumbs your clit, admiring how your hips jerk from overstimulation.
You climb over Trinity to rest atop of her, her chest rising and falling against yours, and kiss her pouty lips. “Did I do okay?”
Trinity raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think you need me answering that.” Her hands naturally come up to rest on your back, thumb swapping back and forth. “I gotta thank Huckleberry over here, or you would still be torturing me.”
“But it’s fun,” you sing, playing with her hair, brushing the ends of it on her collarbone.
“Your definition of fun is different from everybody else’s,” Dennis says, playfully spanking your ass.
“Hey!” You exclaim, swatting his hand away. “You haven’t complained.” Dennis chuckles and shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“You know Trinity,” you say in a tone that means trouble. Trinity hums, cupping your cheek. She wants to kiss you again. “We haven’t made Dennis cum yet.”
It’s an offer you’re making. There’s an unspoken tension in the room. Dennis and Trinity have barely interacted. When you first thought of a threesome, you believed all three would have equal participation and interaction. Dennis is not going to push for it—despite wanting it— but you will for him. “Do you want to give it a try?” Dennis shuffles next to you, a brief movement that reveals his shyness.
Trinity’s eyes widen as she takes in your words. Her breath was stolen away. “We can end here, no pressure. I’ve had fun, and I want you guys to be comfortable. I just thought I’d throw it out there, but if you think it’ll strain your relationship, we should stop here.” You make it clear that Dennis and Trinity are in control, too. You might’ve taken the reins at first, but you won’t be the instigator who will force something unwanted.
Trinity angles her head to look at Whitaker, and maybe it’s the dim lighting or the nudity, but in that instance, he’s not the same person. She wants Whitaker to have sex with her. She’s curious about how it will feel and whether it’s as good as you make it seem. More importantly, she knows he won’t hold it against her or make it weird afterwards. He’s one of the people she trusts most in this world.
“I want to try,” Trinity says, and Whitaker’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that, sure, she joined them in bed, but he thought she’d be put off by the idea of a man fucking her.
You beam at her answer, “Yes? You want him to fuck you as good as he does me?”
Trinity nods more confidently this time, sitting up along with you. You turn to your boyfriend, who has been silent his whole time, “What about you, Denny? Don’t you want to fuck Trinity?” You know the answer, you knew it since he decided to make his experiment before he had admitted it to himself. Men are easy to read.
“Come on, Dennis. You have to admit how pretty our Trin is,” you purr, kneeling between the two of them in the bed. You touch her breasts, rolling her nipples between your fingers till they are erect. You continue down to her pussy, “She’s still so wet, and her cunt is so warm, I know you’d like it.”
Trinity moans when your fingers dip to swipe over her clit. She decides to look at Huckleberry then, his chest heaving as he watches. His eyes have darkened, and he has a bruising hold on your thigh. She lands on his cock and moans at the simple thought of having him inside.
You redirect your attention to poor Trinity, who has been painfully teased tonight, “Right, Trinity? You’ve seen how good he fucks me; he’s really talented, and it’s shaped so perfectly. Look, it’s the perfect length and heavy, don’t you want to be fucked by something other than silicone? Where you don’t have to do all of the work?”
The tension is too high, breaking suddenly with Dennis and Trinity smashing their lips in a rushed kiss. It takes a moment to be processed, but within seconds, Dennis melts into the kiss, slowing it significantly. You push on their backs so their fronts are pressed flush. Trinity feels his cock pressing on her lower abdomen, warm, heavy, and throbbing. You take her hand on his shoulder and guide it down, encouraging her to touch him.
Dennis is going to hell. This is a different level of sin and impiety. He’s been consumed by lust, and he refuses to go back. Dennis's hands feel big against her skin as he presses them on her back. She’s surprised when he licks at the seam of her lips and opens her mouth. Soon, she remembers who she is, licking the roof of his mouth instead. Her nipples are pressing on his front, and he gathers the courage to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and testing.
He breaks the kiss with hooded eyes and rediscovered drive, kissing down her cheek to her neck. Just as his mouth finds her nipple, his fingers explore her cunt. Trinity hates that you were right; he was good at it. He sucks at her breasts, teeth grazing, squeezing, teasing, but never biting. His tongue soothes over her nipple right as it begins to be overwhelming. It has her reaching a hand to the back of his head to pull him closer.
Dennis grabs the hand wrapped around him and pushes it back; he doesn’t need it. He’s far too focused on Trinity and what he can do for her. He gives a throaty moan at the patch of hair atop her cunt and the smooth slickness of her clit. You lean your head on her shoulder, saying dirty things that she hadn’t even thought of. It has her bucking her hips on Whitaker's hand.
Dennis took advantage of the product, his fingers curious as they poked and prodded. Index and middle finger parting her lips, rubbing the sides of her clit, and lightly dipping into her hole that weeps for him. Dennis straightens up after leaving a light marked on her right breast, opposite to yours. He looks at you for confirmation. Confirmation that you’re okay with his doing this. You smile, silly, it was your idea, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.
Dennis cups Trinity’s face, giving her one short kiss and then another, before he pushes her back to lie on the bed. He’s having trouble recognizing this is the same Trinity that works with him in the ER. Hair loose, skin exposed, skin blushing.
You give her a kiss of your own, spreading her legs to present her to Dennis, you have her bend her legs, folding them upwards, so she’s completely exposed to him. Still flexible. Dennis kneels right between them, touching her legs, giving them a reassuring squeeze. For a moment, he hesitates, aware of the line he’s crossing.
Trinity observes and notices how his cock is leaking for her. Glad she’s not the only pathetic one in this situation. You’re the only one holding on to your dignity. “Go on, Denny, don’t get shy now,” you lightly quip. You were excited to witness your boyfriend fuck his roommate.
The hesitation dissolves into nothingness because right in front of him is a gorgeous woman, wet and spread for him. Dennis splays a hand on her tummy, touching her, warming her up, and Trinity’s hand comes up to clutch his. “Start slow.” She’s nervous; it’s been a long time since she’s been with a man, and quite honestly, she’s forgotten how different or similar it might feel. Not to mention Huckleberry is surprisingly well-endowed.
Dennis nods, but before he slides his cock inside, he leans down to kiss her. Sweet Huckleberry, the sensitive boy, Trinity thinks not wanting to admit to herself that it helps her relax, too. She jumps when he rubs his cock through her folds, making it slick as he notches his cock on her entrance. You watch entranced by it all; you were a filthy liar if this wasn’t turning you on immensely. You wish you had your dildo to fuck yourself while you watched your boyfriend fuck another girl. Trinity Santos at that.
Slowly, he inches in until he’s buried to the hilt. Trinity hisses and gasps. “Okay?” Dennis asks Trinity through gritted teeth. “How does it feel, Trin?” You follow up, caressing her cheek.
“Fucking full—fuck.” There is an ache deep in her, besides the stretch of his cock on her gummy walls, and Whitaker is going to take care of it.
“It’s okay, he’ll take it slow, right, baby?”
“Yea-,” he curses when Trinity purposefully clenches around him. She’s so fucking warm and snug around him. He’s been pent up too long. He needs to control himself. The last thing he needs is to cum before he makes her cum, and you know that.
Santos would never let him live it down.
You reach to the tight circles on her clit, telling Dennis to start fucking her. He starts off slow, gauging her reactions. “Don’t worry, Huckleberry, I won’t break,” she moans, getting cocky.
Dennis has heard her moans before tonight coming through the walls, but hearing her moan his name live and clear did something to him. Made him feel in control, powerful, like he could do anything. His hands plant themselves on her soft curves, giving him the leverage to push deep.
Trinity forgets about being shy as she moans at the sensation of his pelvis smacking against the most sensitive areas. The slickness between the adding another thick layer of stimulation.
You stop rubbing her clit to give her some reprieve. A moment to be purely in touch with Whitaker. Trinity couldn’t close her eyes for long; she had to pay attention to everything going on. She had to look at Whitaker as he took charge of her body.
“Tell him how good he’s making you feel.” You order Trinity, licking your fingertips and pulling gently at her nipples. Her body reacts to your touch by milking Dennis's cock.
“Making me feel good, Huckleberry,” Trinity mumbles, biting her lips when he gives a particularly hard thrust.
“Try again, Trinity, you can do better than that,” you lightly chide, holding your hand on her sternum. Gentle pressure that grounds her.
Trinity is overwhelmed, her eyes watering with each earth-shattering thrust, “I love the way your cock is fucking me, Huck-“
“No, Trinity, that’s not his name,” you say firmly, gripping her chin to look at you for just a moment, “Look at him and tell Dennis how good he’s fucking you,”
“You gotta be kidding me,” she puffs, face turning redder.
“If you don’t, I’ll tell him to stop,” you threaten, looking over at Dennis. You don’t think he’s quite involved in the conversation between you and Trinity. There’s a layer of sweat on him, making him look very handsome. “He’ll listen to me.”
You’re proven wrong when Dennis adjusts his hold, hiking Trinity’s hips higher. It’s a position you know well, and that will get Trinity to say his given name. “Ah,“ Trinity gasps when he adjusts her position, hitting that spot nearly perfectly. Her ass off the bed, atop of his thighs as he pushes right into her spongy spot. “D-Dennis!”
Dennis bites back a smug smirk, “Yeah, Trin?”
“You’re fucking me so good, fuck, please make me cum, Dennis,” Trinity begs, finding his hands and clutching onto them. She’ll have bruises tomorrow.
You lock eyes with Dennis and smile, nodding, you pick yourself up from Trinity’s side and kneel behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist, encouraging him to make her cum. You throw in dirty comments while kissing his shoulder blades, your voice offering him a familiarity he’s so obsessed with.
Trinity is holding tightly onto his arms, begging and mumbling things you don’t quite understand. Dennis cock is messy with their arousal, Trinity’s clit swollen, ready for release. He feels when she’s close by how her thighs shake. Putting her out of her misery, he rubs her clit to make her cum around him.
“AH!” she screams, “Yes, yes, yes,”
Dennis grunts, ”Fuck, you’re choking my cock such a pretty, tight pussy,” Her walls clench and the small gush that flows around him has him ready to bust. With sheer will and a slight pull from you, he pulls out, and you pump his cock so he ejaculates over Trinity's stomach.
Dennis slowly relaxes, leaning back on his haunches and softly releasing Trinity from the tight hold he had on her hips.
They are both breathless, muscles going slack as endorphins and oxytocin flood their bodies. Dennis slowly lies back in bed, exhausted but pleased. You step back between Trinity's legs, leaning down to lick at Dennis spent on her skin. You lick all of it, swallowing most but leaving some in your mouth as you search for Trinity's mouth, where you pinch her cheeks for her mouth to open, as you let some of it drip down to her mouth before you kiss her and force her to swallow.
“Fuck me, you'll be the death of me,” Dennis groans, watching.
There’s a lull where you all pick yourselves back up. The post nut clarity of everything you did settling in. You giggle, and both look at you weirdly, “That was so much, much. I gotta go pee though,” you chirp, standing and leaving the room.
Trinity and Dennis are left alone in the bedroom. The realization of what they did settled in the silence.
“We’re good, right?” Dennis questions.
“Yep, Yup, this changes nothing, Huckleberry, don’t worry,” Trinity blurts instantly, going back to the nickname he’s had from the first day they met.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” He timidly asks, reverting to the person she's always known. Sweet, caring, and slightly insecure Dennis.
Trinity laughs, not out of mockery but disbelief, “You don’t get to ask me that after you fucked my brains out.”
Dennis' eyes went wide, but a small, pleased smile broke out on his face. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I really didn’t expect you to be so…” She tries to express what she’s trying to with her hands, but comes up short.
“So what?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, already waiting for a backhanded compliment.
“Dominant, I guess,” Trinity presses her lips together, further adding, “That sounds bad, I just mean that you’re firm and easily take control. In a good way!”
“You thought I’d be pushed around all aspects of my life,” the accusation is there, yet he says it so casually.
“Well, no, I guess not.” It’s not confident by any means. “You stopped being like that after intern year.”
You come back into the room, a large t-shirt covering your frame. “You guys debriefed? All good?”
“Yeah, we did. Did you have to put on clothes, though? We’re still vulnerable here,” Trinity waves over her and Whitaker, who are still very naked. She should’ve known you left to give them the space to talk. You’re hyper-aware like that. It’s something she likes about you, you know when to pull and push.
“Take it off and come join us, we’re not ready to get up yet,” Dennis calls out with a flick of his head.
“You guys just want to look at my tits,” you mumble, but comply and get back on the bed.
Dennis is right in between the two of you. Flinching when you decide to poke his side, prompting Trinity to do the same. He halfheartedly scolds you both, flinching when you try to tickle him again. A soft conversation arising as you and Dennis reassure Trinity that she's hot and smart and capable and everything someone with good taste could wish for.
When morning comes, everything falls back into place. Trinity retreats to her room to complete her rehearsed routine before work, and you take off for the gym with a kiss on his lips.
Everything settled comfortably. No awkwardness. You, Dennis, and Trinity fell into the good old routine. You even went with them to the bar a couple nights later to find Trinity a date, which went very successfully. The way Trinity carried herself was different, relaxed and confident. No more thinking about Garcia or the hateful words she spewed.
Their erotic night is only brought up once, months later. “I never properly thanked you for that night. It really helped.”
Dennis is deep in charting when Trinity brings it up. It takes him a moment to register what she means. “Oh, no problem." His face heats up, vividly remembering that night.
Trinity can’t handle the serious atmosphere, so she does what she does best. “You’re lucky you got to her first, Huckleberry.”
“Or what you would’ve dated her?” Dennis scoffs, leaning back on the chair.
“Hell yeah,” Trinity exclaims, “A girl that hot and talented,” she whispers, ducking down to make sure no one hears.
“I don’t think so,” Dennis shakes his head with a grimace.
“I wouldn’t be so confident she was dripping for me,” Trinity purses her lips, typing in an order for a patient.
“I’m confident in my abilities to please her.” His voice is steady and confident, and he looks away from Trinity to continue his charting.
Trinity flicks her hair over her shoulder, waving him off, “Okay, I wouldn’t get too cocky.”
Dennis takes a beat, deciding if he wants to respond to that. “No? I kinda remember someone going ‘Oh Dennis, fuck yeah, make me cum, yes yes yes.’”
Trinity thanks whatever god exists that the ED is loud and everyone is busy. “HUCKLEBERRY!” She exclaims, raising a hand to slap whatever part of him she can reach first, but he’s already running, grabbing a tablet from a nurse. “I’ve created a monster.”
enjoyed the fic? leave a comment or a reblog, id love to read what you thought even if its just a key board smash, if not...a heart is good too
pairing: dennis whitaker x reader x trinity santos
summary: after a nasty breakup with yolanda garcia, trinity loses much more than love, she loses her confidence. good thing she has you and whitaker to help her take it back
word count: 12.1k
warnings: smut, 18+, language, reader and dennis are in an established relationship, bisexual trinity (?), peeping tom behavior from trinity, unprotected sex, threesome, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, mainly porn without much plot, pet names like 'baby' i'm sorry i know some people hate it but it came to me organically, this is a smut fic im not coming up with a witty nickname, nipple play, honestly it's pretty regular, good old sex there isn't anything too wow, no hard kinks in this fic, minimal cum play i guess, do i have to add that there's lesbian sex if its a fmf threesome(?), well there you have it just in case
a/n: you know that shift in hormones that has you acting a little crazy? yeah, well i went through that early this week. the worm in my head whispered a really outrageous and horny idea and then proceeded to scream 'feed me!' nonstop
so ladies and gentlemen, get your pearls and get ready to clutch them. yes i know this is ooc not only for the characters but myself as well, but i couldn’t stop thinking about it, sue me. i am not proud but it had to.
i am done. don’t expect any smut from me in the next 6-8 months. i’m at my limit. im only good at writing smut twice a year. i need to chug holy water after this
isa if you’re here, don’t read i beg you.
Dennis Whitaker kept you all to himself at first. He wanted to get to know you and give you the opportunity to get to know him, without any remarks from his friends or colleagues clouding your judgment. You held yourself with such confidence, and he wanted to match that energy. You didn't act like he was out of your league, in fact, you had been extremely kind and that attitude only made him want to try harder. He couldn't fumble the chance to have you be his.
The support he’s received at Pitt has made him much more confident than he was as a med student or even an intern. At the same time, he’s no stranger to the remarks about him being clumsy or having shit luck or being awkward. A lot of it came from his roommate, who he now considers his best friend.
So when he started dating you, he carried the calm, quiet confidence he gained in the ED and left the insecurities at the door. He had to, or else you would see him as the others did, and he liked you too much to screw his chances up. For a while, it worked, but like all things, his true colors showed, and that’s when you truly fell for him. Sad eyes and shit luck included. It simply gave you so many more opportunities to cheer him up and brighten his day. It didn’t take away from the fact that he’s a hard-working man, brave enough to work in a trauma center. He saves lives on a daily basis, and that’s more than enough for you. The struggles Dennis faced in the past made him the person he is now. They never made him give up on his dream of becoming a doctor. That determination and drive made you fall over heels for him, so he had nothing to fear.
With time, he introduced you to Trinity Santos, the snarky roommate who took him in once upon a time. You and Trinity hit it off pretty easily. You earned her respect when you so subtly defended Dennis with a jab towards her. Trinity accepted it gracefully. There would be occasions where you and Dennis would be joined by Yolanda and Trinity in double dates. Other times, it was simple hangouts at the bar with Victoria, Trinity, Mateo, and whichever medical student had earned their respect. Slowly, he integrated you into his world, and neither of you has looked back.
You were the first call Trinity made when Yolanda broke it off with her. She allowed you to be there with her as she cried on your shoulder repeating the cruel words the surgeon told her. She is too much. Too intense. It was fine as a casual situation, but she doesn't see a future with Trinity. Too impulsive. Yolanda felt suffocated by her constant presence.
Trinity would instantly deny it if you were to mention her vulnerable state to anyone. Very few people had the opportunity to see her in such a way and she would very much prefer if it stayed that way; luckily for her, she had you and Dennis on speed dial. Or across the hall in some instances.
Trinity continued acting like her usual self, masking her pain with sarcastic humor and awful nicknames. Her job remained flawless, but beneath it all, on a personal level, her confidence had been damaged. Yolanda really hurt your friend and Trinity lost a piece of herself in the process. Getting it back has been far from easy. So every chance you got, you tried to cheer her up and encourage her to get back on the market. Visits to pretentious coffee shops, gay bars, bookshops, music festivals, and any place that had a space for someone like Trinity.
She was approached constantly by beautiful women of all kinds. She could choose whatever flavor she preferred that day, yet it never went far because in the back of her head Yolanda's words kept replaying, getting louder each day she spent alone.
Trinity didn't get any action but she did get a good laugh as gay men approached Dennis, promising sexual favors while he choked on his drink. It basically forced you to station yourself in his lap or between his legs as he held onto your waist. “I gotta protect my man,” you would say, throwing your arms over his shoulders while he rested his head on your shoulder, shoulders shuddering with laughter and embarrassment.
In one of those bars, late into the early hours of the morning, is when she finds out you swing both ways, or used to. A friend who you haven’t seen since Uni approached you, drunk out of her mind, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you since forever!! Come dance with me, let’s revive old memories.” She said with a splitting grin and lust-filled eyes. She looked you up and down, briefly stopping at your exposed legs.
“I’m here with my boyfriend, Taylor,” you laugh awkwardly, waving her off. Dennis would lightly squeeze your shoulder, finding humor in it.
“Oh pity, you’re still into men,” she stomps, but then she’s quickly swooped away by her friends, who offer apologetic smiles.
“Wait, you’re bisexual?” Trinity laughs, shaking off the shock of the interaction. “Huckleberry, did you know?”
“Mhm, she told me during one of our first dates,” Dennis nods, playing with the strap of your sparkly blouse.
“I wouldn’t call myself bisexual,” you say over the pounding of the bass. Trinity stares at you as she takes a drink of her vodka cran, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I’ve only ever been in relationships with men; I’ve been with women, but mostly in a casual setting. I guess I was exploring when I was in Uni.”
“And your catholic self isn’t scandalized by that?” She throws the questions at Dennis, who shakes his head, baffled.
“There’s a reason I moved away from home, Trinity. Besides, I live with you. I’d say you desensitized me to all of that,” Dennis admits, to which Trinity accepts.
The Santos + Whitaker apartment had become your home. You were so familiar with the space that you could navigate it in the dark, knowing Dennis had left his bag by the coffee table and that Trinity almost always left her sneakers by the couch. All because you were thoughtful and didn’t want Dennis driving all the way to your place when he was exhausted after a grueling shift.
There are moments where hormones are acting crazy, and you retreat to your apartment, where you can enjoy Dennis and his skills without inhibition. You didn’t quite care as much about your downstairs neighbor hearing you as you did about having Trinity go through that. She would never let either of you live it down, even if in the past you had to experience her and Yolanda's rendezvous through the thin walls of the apartment.
That being said, when duty calls, you answer happily. You just have to bite the back of your hand, or preferably any part of Dennis you can reach, to keep quiet. The little sneak enjoys it too. Pittsburgh has corrupted the Nebraska boy he used to be. The feeling of your teeth on his bicep shouldn’t have him cumming that easily.
“Shh, baby, we can’t have Trinity hearing us,” he pleads, pressing his lips on yours in a sloppy kiss. Your hands are intertwined with his as his hips press yours to the bed. As he finds the sweet spot, you gasp and bite down on his shoulder, a soft squeak and a grunt being the only sound. “Dennis,” you whine, riding out your high. His sweaty forehead pressing against yours, his hot breath on your skin.
Everything shifted one Fall night. Trinity was supposed to be out on a date, so you and Dennis desperately retreated to his bedroom. You were careless not to acknowledge that the door didn’t fully shut. Dennis had teased and edged you for an hour on the couch alone; if Trinity knew, she would’ve murdered you both and forced you to get a new couch. Now, you’re naked, sitting fully on Dennis's lap with his cock deliciously nestled inside of you. You grind your hips, loving how your clit rubs on the blonde patch of hair on his pelvis. Dennis lets you use him to your pleasure as he sucks bruises on your chest and plucks your nipples into his mouth.
Grabbing onto his shoulders, you begin riding him properly, moaning at the sensation of his cock nearly sliding out of you completely before he fills you back up. “I love your cock, Dennis, love how it’s all mine,” you pant into his ear. You lean your head back in pleasure when he bucks up to meet your pace, but as you open your eyes, you notice the door slightly open and green eyes peering in from the shadows.
“God, Baby,” Dennis moans when you unconsciously clench around him, grinding in his lap. It shouldn’t turn you on to have your friend watching like a peeping tom, but in your lust-filled haze, it thrilled you. Like a peacock you spread your feathers, you arched your back just a bit more, undulated your hips seductively, and made sure she heard about how good Dennis was pleasing you.
Trinity is frozen by the sight. It’s so fucking wrong, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. Her date stood her up, so she stopped at the convenience store to get snacks and food to share with you and Dennis when she inevitably hijacked the TV to play Love is Blind.
She mainly looks at you, enjoying yourself in the throes of pleasure. For the first time, she also sees Whitaker in a different light. There’s curiosity bubbling up along with guilt. She’s not upset she got stood up. The sick part of her is happy about it because she got to see that spectacle. The logical part is begging her to stop and look away, it's wrong in so many levels. She eventually listens, tearing her eyes away, leaving the apartment again with a soft click of the door like she never came back early.
You debate on not telling Dennis, what good will it do? You promised him full honesty, though, and this should be a warning to be more careful. “Hey, Den,” you softly speak. You’re still naked in his bed, head resting on his chest as you trace patterns on his pale skin. The door has been closed for a while now.
He’s drowsy, but still he hums in acknowledgement, brushing your arm with his hand in a soothing manner.
“Trinity might’ve caught us red-handed,” you blurt out, picking yourself up with a hand to his chest.
“Don’t worry, I replaced the sour patch kids.” Dennis misunderstands your worry, thinking back on the other day when you ate the sour candy. Trinity is very serious about her Sour Patch Kids, often arguing with Whitaker when he dips into her stash.
“No, Den, earlier when I was…riding you,” he blushes with a smile, remembering, “Yeah?”
“Focus,” you huff, slapping his chest, “We accidentally left the door ajar, and I caught her looking at us mid-action.”
Dennis' smile falls, sitting up. Cortisol levels rise, and his heart races with worry and embarrassment, “Why didn’t you say something?”
“One, my judgment was clouded because you were hitting the spot, and two, I thought she would leave, but she just stared. She was probably in shock seeing his sweet country boy acting all innocent,” you try to come up with an excuse.
“You were the one riding my cock!” Dennis shoots back.
“Yes, but you were the one to tease me for over an hour!” You point at him with a pout.
Dennis sighs and grabs your pointed hand to kiss your finger. He thinks about it as logically possible, “It was probably an accident, and she definitely left cause she hasn’t made a single sound all this time. Do you want me to talk to her?”
Trinity always has something playing in the background. Music, reality TV, old reruns. The woman can't stand the silence in her apartment. She would never admit that having Whitaker live was a way to help with the stillness in her apartment.
You shake your head, declining his offer. “I think it’s best if we just forget about it. If she brings it up and curses us out, then we own it. Let’s not make it a big deal; we’re all adults. I’m embarrassed, and she probably is too.”
“You’re right. You’re always right,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you to him and kissing your swollen lips. You moan into the kiss, giggling when he places his hand back on his half-erect dick. He’s still a man on his day off with his very naked, hot girlfriend next to him.
“If only they knew you’re really trouble, Dennis Whitaker,” you click your tongue, chastising him. Your grip on him unrelenting.
“They wouldn’t believe you,” he moans, tilting his head back and giving you the perfect opportunity to leave a pretty mark on his neck and ruin his reputation just a bit.
Dennis is a man of science, so it’s logical that he would conduct an experiment. Something didn’t settle right with him when you told him Trinity stared. Not that she just caught you, but she stopped and stared. She’s one of the sharpest in the ED, always jumping on surgical opportunities and incoming traumas. Diagnosis and management spilling from her lips in seconds. It seems strange she would be in that type of shock by a simple act of lust between him and his girlfriend. Hell, she’s the one always starting raunchy conversations to make him blush.
Weeks later, Trinity hadn’t made one joke about the situation. No snarky remark. No humiliating comment. It was not addressed once and that was strange. So Dennis left the door cracked open to see if it would happen again. Trinity casually mentioned she had a headache and retreated to her room. He knew she would come out to look for some ibuprofen any time now. Not telling you about his plan, he swoops you over to his bedroom, seducing you and promising he’d be quiet.
He wanted to be proved wrong. It was all an accident, and Trinity decided that she wasn’t going to humiliate him for once. He had been mortified about Trinity catching him in the act, but the longer he thought about it, the more his perspective changed. He didn’t know what it was, but the prospect of being watched excited him as well.
It started organically, making out, tongues sliding as hands explored bodies they’ve memorized. In a few moments, your panties were off, and Dennis was two fingers deep in you, talking you through it. “You hear how wet you are, baby?” His voice was quiet, raspy, his tongue licking his lips, wishing they were on you instead. Sinful squelching filled the room; it would make a pornstar blush.
“Dennis,” you gasp, trying to hold his wrist, get him to ease up before the knot in your stomach dissolves.
“No, baby, come on, you can give me one like this,” he says, mouth pressed to your cheek as your hair clung to your sweaty skin.
“I want your cock,” you moan, you wanted to cum with him inside you, filling you up. His fingers were great, but you were craving so much more. You needed his weight on you, your legs wrapped around his hips and his cock spreading you open till there wasn't any more space.
“You’ll get it after you cum on my fingers. I promise.” Dennis kisses your jaw.
He had forgotten about his experiment until he noticed a slight change in the shadows. It was momentary but enough to catch his attention. Discreetly, he looks over, and there she is again, Trinity. He gives her a chance. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. She doesn’t flinch. Dennis catches his lips on yours, kissing your cheek till his lips are on your ear, “You’re going to show her how good I can make you cum?”
“Denny!” You cry out, but it’s enough to have you spasming. His fingers are abusing your sweet spot repeatedly. The sound of his hand slapping your skin is getting louder. Dennis makes a show of taking his fingers out and bringing them up to the light, where she can also see, pretending to observe your arousal before he brings them up to your lips, where you greedily suck them clean.
He doesn’t exactly know why he does it. It’s like he has something to prove after years of insecurity. After years of being seen as less than by many people. Dennis wanted to be seen as capable in all aspects, including pleasing his girlfriend.
Trinity is gone moments later.
On a casual coffee date, you bring up the idea to Dennis. If she’s so captivated by you guys having sex, why not have her join once? She’s probably lonely. Yolanda really did a number on her. She needs the confidence to go back out there, and perhaps you and Dennis can give it back to her by making her feel wanted and sexy and like being too much isn't actually too much.
“I don’t know,” Dennis grimaces, playing with his half-empty coffee cup. “Trinity doesn’t seem like the type to be in that scenario, especially with me in the mix.”
“All that Peeping Tom energy has me thinking the opposite,” you say thoughtfully, then you reach for his hand. “Also, maybe she teases you so much because it’s a habit. From what I know, you’re not the same person she first met three years ago."
“Would you really be open to a threesome with Trinity?”
“It wouldn’t be my first time with a girl, and it’s Trinity. It’s no secret she’s hot,” you shrug, drinking your matcha that admittedly tastes like grass, “I don’t know. That time she caught us, both times, it…turned me on.” You admit the last part as your ears and face warm up. You’ve always been open with Dennis, and there’s no one else for you but him, but it would be fun to have an adventure like a threesome.
“I felt like I had something to prove, and it made me feel good,” Dennis admitted as well, playing with the lid of his coffee cup.
“Have you ever felt any attraction for Trinity?”
“First time I met her I thought she was attractive—and mean—but finding out she liked girls I just locked it up and never thought about it again…until now.”
“So should I ask?” You ask, not wanting to cross any boundaries without Dennis consent. This is his roommate and coworker. If you don’t approach it carefully, you could fuck everything up.
Dennis was too curious now. The idea is eating at his brain; it’s no good that you appear to be so into it as well. “Subtly, ease her into it in case it’s all a big misunderstanding.”
“Thinking about it is turning me on,” you confess with a shuddering breath, looking out the big display window.
Your boyfriend is silent for a split second before he bursts out. “Want to go to your apartment?” He was also feeling a certain tightness in his jeans.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” you mumble, picking up your purse and throwing away the matcha cup.
One night Dennis has a shift in the ED, you knock on Trinity’s door, bags of food in your hand. The door opens not a minute later, and you lift the bags with a smile, “I got Thai.”
“Since when do you knock? I thought Huckleberry gave you a key?” She says curiously, but is grateful at the sight of food. She was just contemplating what to eat, menus scattered on the coffee table.
“It’s common courtesy, Trin,” you chime, taking out the containers as she looks for plates and utensils.
Comfortably, both of you settle on the worn couch that has seen too much and put on a movie. Challengers plays in the background, the scene where Zendaya kisses both boys playing.
“They are so out of her league,” Trinity comments, washing down the food with a Coke Zero.
“It’s somewhat realistic. If all three were hot, it would be a different kind of movie,” you muse, eyebrows wiggling.
“Have you ever had a threesome?” You ask, staring only at the screen. It’s not odd for you to talk about sex; it’s a normal conversation between two friends of the same sex. Especially when Trinity used to be very vocal about her sex life.
“In Uni,” Trinity grins, remembering those nights of wild parties and lots of alcohol. She admits she got out of control for a while there.
“Was it like strictly women, or did you dabble with guys?”
“I knew who I was by the time I got to college, still, a guy would slip in there now and then,” Trinity blushes with a cheeky smile as she takes another bite of the food, remembering those days.
“Trinity! You naughty girl,” you exclaim, pushing her shoulder.
“Dennis and I were thinking about it…” You say it shyly to gauge her reaction.
“Having a threesome? You and Huckleberry? Now, that’s shocking.” Trinity snorts as the movie plays. A moment passes before she says, “Who would you even ask? Oh my god, are you making a Tinder profile to look for a third? Can I see?”
“Ew, a stranger? No thanks,” you grimace before your eyes flick to her and then back to your food, “Actually, I was thinking about you.”
Trinity chokes on a piece of chicken. You run over to her, slapping her back and handing her the can of Coke Zero. Trinity goes absolutely red in the face, both from choking and your offer. “What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?” She wheezes, holding her chest, her eyes are wide as she stares at you, bewildered.
You offer her an innocent smile, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were mid bite.”
“Joke's not funny,” Trinity whines, leaning back on the couch to calm her heart. She doesn’t think much of the question or why you’re asking her specifically.
Your quiet voice makes her snap at you, “I wasn’t joking. It’s an honest question, Trinity.”
Trinity's mouth opens and closes, not knowing what to say. From you, she can understand the question, but does Huckleberry know?
“You can say no. It won’t change anything between us. I won’t be offended. It’s totally low stakes,” you offer her a way out, nervously fiddling with your rings.
“Why me?” Trinity asks, mind still reeling at the bomb you dropped, not knowing she would be in deep shit with the next thing you say.
“Well, Dennis and I noticed how recently you’ve been watching us in some quite intimate moments,” you blush, looking at her through your lashes, avoiding direct eye contact.
Trinity nearly turns green, nausea forming in the pit of her stomach, “W-What are you talking about?” The tone of her sentence is higher than usual.
“Hey, it’s okay! We were careless and left the door open; if anything, it’s our fault. Still, we couldn’t help but notice that you were…enjoying the show so to speak,” you purse your lips to hide the nervous smile threatening to break out.
“I-I don’t, no, I didn’t mean to,” Trinity stutters, hiding her face in her hands, refusing to look at you. "I swear it's not what you think. I'm not some sort of pervert." Except, she kinda is.
“Trinity, look at me,” you urge her, grabbing her hand to pry it off her face. She barely meets your eyes, “We’re ready to forget about it if you are. We just thought you might like to have some fun. You’ve been struggling since she-who-must-not be-named hurt you, but if it doesn’t sound like fun, then it’s not, and we move on, and we never talk about it again. You’re a really good friend, and I don’t want that to change.”
“I have to think about it. Let’s just finish the movie,” Trinity clears her throat, piping up ten seconds later, “Wait, the movie choice was a device to bring up a threesome?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” You say sheepishly.
“You’re sneaky and terrifying,” Trinity mumbles.
The rest of the movie plays quietly with no more chatter to drone out the noise, and the food is left untouched. When the credits roll, you decide to go home to give Trinity the space to process and think of a decision. It’s only fair, you bid farewell with another reassurance and apology, squeezing Trinity’s hand goodbye. You take it as a good sign that she didn’t kick you out instantly.
Trinity just about has a panic attack when you leave. She leans against the door and curses herself out. She’s so fucking stupid. Why would she think you and Huckleberry wouldn’t notice? She really didn’t mean to be a creep, but something about the two of you just caught her attention. It turned her on in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. Fuck. FUCK. How dare you just suggest a threesome? With Huckleberry? Dennis Whitaker? Can his catholic guilt even handle that? Is it all a plan to turn her straight?
Trinity thinks he must have had a traumatic brain injury because finding you hot is normal; she’s always voiced how attractive you are, but to find her roommate attractive as well is a new low for her. She didn’t even realize she felt that way until she found Huckleberry sucking on your tits. He was different around you, more confident, and confidence has always been something that she’s found attractive.
She can’t go through with this. She won’t, it’s totally insane. Also, since when does Whitaker want to fuck her? A girl does a nice thing, and there’s a man wanting to fuck them. Except, it’s Whitaker, and he’s not that type of person. Trinity tosses and turns most of the night, barely sleeping a wink. Her alarm is futile in waking her up because she’s already awake when it starts vibrating and ringing.
Her morning routine is automatic. Get dressed, make coffee, pack the backpack, and slip on shoes. A dance she does every morning. Walking into the Pitt and seeing all of the occupied seats brings her peace. She can do this; this is her job, and she’s damn good at it.
Leaving her stuff on her locker and changing into the mandated scrubs, she joins the rest at handout. Whitaker gives her a tired smile, acting as if his girlfriend didn’t just do one of the most fucking brave things in the world. She ignores him for the rest of the handout, and he approaches her after with a tired look, “Careful with the kid in 8, he’s a screamer,” he tells her, expecting a laugh at his expense. When she doesn’t respond and scans her badge to enter the system, he frowns.
“What’s up with you?” He frowns, poking her shoulder, knowing well he shouldn’t annoy her too much before she explodes.
Trinity whips to glare at him, “What’s up with me? What’s up with me? Last night your girlfriend dropped a fucking bomb on me,” she whispers as she looks around to make sure no one’s listening in.
“What?” His face twists in confusion. “You found out she doesn’t like Love is Blind?”
“She what?” Trinity gasps again, “You’re both trying to kill me.”
“Trinity, I just worked a 14-hour shift. Just tell me.” He wonders what has Trinity in such a state. His girlfriend and her get along like two peas in a pod.
Trinity surveys the room again before she pulls him to whisper in his ear, “The fucking threesome.”
Dennis pales, “Oh, that.” He’s doomed. Yup, he’s moving in with you by the end of the week.
“Yes, that,” Trinity hisses, sitting straight when Robby appears.
“Whitaker, go home and sleep. Santos, trauma incoming, you’re with me,” he states, expecting Trinity to be right behind him when the door slides open with a gurney and a blood-soaked patient.
“So, is that a no?” He scrunches his face in confusion.
“It’s an ‘I’m thinking about it still’ because what the fuck?” She whispers-shouts at him, avoiding a man in a wheelchair and finding a pair of gloves on the wall.
Dennis is too tired to stay hung up on the fact that you chose last night to tell her and didn’t prepare him, knowing he would be going home to Trinity. He changes and picks up his bag before heading home and crashing. He’ll worry in the afternoon when he wakes up.
Trinity puts her head down and tries not to think of your proposition. She works all day, focusing on her patients and the traumas that come in through the sliding doors. Her focus is shifted when she sees Yolanda Garcia flirting with one of the new nurses; something twists in her stomach. Hurt. That woman has ruined Trinity. She took something that Trinity had cherished for so long. Turning in the opposite direction, she continues working, the awareness that she's changed has her considering your offer, for real.
Her charts are done when the handout comes back around. Whitaker walks in much more refreshed, his eye bags not as severe as this morning. There’s a coffee cup in his hand that she’s confident he must have gotten with you before his shift. He stands nervously next to her during the shift change, shifting his weight and twiddling with the badge.
“Relax, Whitaker, I don’t bite,” she tells him with a smirk, “Or, I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
Whitaker looks horrified, not expecting that answer, but then he clears his throat and nods. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He shoves the thought of Trinity biting him deep down. The ED is not the time or place. Perhaps, later during his shower.
From an outside perspective, Trinity looks cool, calm, and collected, but inside she’s shitting herself. She can’t believe she said yes to a threesome with you and Whitaker. What has the world fucking come to? She lowkey expects to see pigs flying when she walks out to the dimming sun. Fishing her phone from her pocket, she texts you a simple:
TrinTrin
Alright, let’s do this. You only live once 8:05 pm
You take charge of planning everything. It doesn’t happen instantly; rather, it takes three weeks for your schedules to align. You pick a bar to meet up in, and from there, all three of you will head to Trinity's and Whitaker’s apartment. You figured she’d be more comfortable there than in your place.
You set down the drinks on the table: a vodka cranberry for Trinity, a beer for Dennis, and a gin and tonic for you. You all three stare at each other with nerves that have been festering for weeks. Excitement is mixed in with the shaky hands and fleeting glances. You’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks, Dennis, a testament to that.
“Just to check in,” you begin asking both roommates, “You’re cool with his right?”
“I never thought I'd be in this position, but yes,” Trinity says, tipping back her cup, “Huckleberry?”
“What she said,” he says, his throat dry from nerves. It’s not like he’s been intimate with many women, and bringing another person to your bed is daunting, even if he’s been looking forward to it.
“Breaking the ice here,” you speak, looking at Trinity, “Why were you watching us have sex?”
Trinity chokes on her drink and glares at her as Dennis pats her in the back, “You really have to stop with the questions when there’s food or liquid around.”
You roll your eyes, “Answer the question, Trinity, and don’t say because the door was open.”
Trinity scoffs when her snarky response is shut down, “Why should I?”
“Considering we’re going to have sex after this, it would be nice to know what about us caught your attention,” Dennis replied instead of you.
Trinity looks down at the table and shrugs, “Listen, I really don’t know. The first time, I had just gotten home after being stood up and heard a noise, so I went to investigate to make sure Huckleberry here wasn’t dying and then—.”
“Then what?” He prompts, urging her to keep talking.
Trinity glares at him, poking her tongue in her cheek in annoyance, “I saw you with him, and I thought you looked beautiful, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I enjoyed seeing you both together, it’s a different side of the two of you, and I was attracted to it.”
“I liked that you were watching.” You add, offering an olive branch. She doesn’t have to be ashamed of it. “Not that I’m telling you to keep sneaking on us.”
“Aye aye, captain,” Trinity says, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Whitaker?”
He’s gotten more comfortable with expressing his deep, dark desires thanks to you, but it’s odd to include someone else. Fair is fair. Everyone is opening up. “I kept the door open on purpose. I knew you’d come around, and I wanted to prove it was not an accident.”
“Shit, never could’ve imagined,” Trinity blows out her cheeks with an exhale, “We’re all a little fucked aren’t we?”
“It’s why we’re friends,” you beam, putting your arms over their shoulders to bring them together in a hug.
Your confessions did break the ice. After a second drink, you walk over to the apartment. That’s when Trinity’s hands start to shake; she feels like the odd one out, and it made her nervous. Trinity stands by Whitaker’s door, unsure of her next move. She’s a step closer to the past, both physically and literally. You and Dennis share an intimate kiss, your hands splayed on his shoulders, reaching to tug on the hair in the back of his neck. He’s been letting it grow out into this faux mullet, and you love it for that exact purpose. Dennis presses one hand flat on your back while the other palms your ass.
There’s a soft moan on the back of your throat that has Trinity taking another step forward. Yearning, wanting that closeness. Breaking from the kiss, you smile at her and beckon her over with a tilt of your head. Another step forward, and yet she’s still holding back. You untangle yourself from Dennis, approaching her and cradling her cheek with your hand. “This okay, Trinity?”
Trinity nods, “Yeah,” pressing her forehead against yours, noses brush, and suddenly you’re kissing her. Her hands plant themselves on your hips, squeezing. A testament that this is real. She’s not dreaming anymore. Dennis comes up behind you, kissing your shoulder, observing how his roommate kisses his girlfriend. His lips trail up your neck, feeling your pulse thrum with excitement.
“Is she as good as she boasts?” Dennis has listened to Trinity boast about how good a kisser she is for years. She’s constantly tying a cherry stem into knots to prove a point. Today, he’ll learn if it’s true.
The kiss breaks with a string of saliva between you, and you nod, staring into Trinity’s eyes, pupils blown out, green eyes nearly black. You brush your thumb over her plump lower lip. “She has the right to brag.”
“Didn’t realize all my boasting made you curious,” Trinity says, her eyes briefly flicking over to Dennis. There’s something there she’s reluctant to explore.
You laugh and kiss her again. It’s sloppy and messy, her tongue gaining the confidence to explore your mouth. Dennis's hand explores your skin, undoing the zipper of your dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. His hands stumble with Trinity’s, and it’s like a shock to his nervous system.
He cups your bra-covered breast as his palms glide down your stomach. Fingertips lightly dip into the waistband of your panties, teasing, creating anticipation. Soon, his fingers search for the proof of your arousal, and he quickly finds it. It's warm and sticky, clinging to your skin and the fabric of your underwear. “She’s so wet,” he tells Trinity, who breaks the kiss to find his hands already touching you. You moan against her lips when his fingers trace over your clit.
He takes his fingers out, glistening, and brings them to his lips. He sucks on them, looking straight at her. “You should’ve offered to our guest first," you scold him.
“She’ll have the chance,” Dennis says, and Trinity can’t help but notice how it’s going raspier, lower.
“Are you okay with that, Trinity?” You ask to include her as she simply stares, overwhelmed by the situation. You’re clearly testing the waters, giving her a chance to back up again.
“Yeah, yes,” she breathes, with a soft nod of her head. Lust is quickly invading every cell in her body; it clouds her judgment, making her impulsive.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” you suggest with a hum. Dennis takes a step back as you tug on her shirt, prompting her to raise her arms. You trace the outline of her breast and smile.
Next, the chunky belt she wears with those tight jeans. You caught Dennis checking out her ass earlier today at the bar. Trinity laughs, almost embarrassed at how she has to really shimmy out of them, but you enjoy it. It’s real.
Dennis sits back on the bed, leaning on his hands as he watches. Trinity's gaze flickers to Whitaker. She’ll be damned, she never expected to be doing this. Somehow, the table has flipped, and it’s him and his girlfriend corrupting her.
“You’re so pretty, Trin,” you gasp, kissing her lips briefly, then her cheek, down the slope of her neck, to her shoulder, where you teasingly push her bra strap. “Let’s get this off.”
You cup her breast with your hands, feeling their weight and how her nipples harden with your touch. Your fingers roll her nipple, and Trinity moans. “They’re sensitive,” she tells you. This situation has turned her lower abdomen into a molten pit. She’s now shaking both from nerves and arousal.
You touch her thighs and ass, admiring how firm they are. Years of hard work in gymnastics are paying off. You wonder how flexible she still is. When you brush the pale scars on her thighs, she tenses. “It’s okay, I got you. Nothing to worry about,” you reassure her, kissing her cheek. It serves to steady her as she reaches to touch your skin.
Lastly, you hook your fingers on the skimpy panties she decided to wear, snapping them back against her skin. The purple lace contrasts with her fair skin. “These are cute.”
“You can borrow them if you want,” she raises an eyebrow, trying to come back onto her sarcastic confidence.
“Hear that, Denny?” Looking back at your boyfriend, he’s discarded his shirt, and his hand is visibly pressing on his cock, “Think they would look good on me?”
“I’m more of a visual learner,” he responds, eyes taking in a nearly naked Trinity Santos. His pupils dilate at the vision of his girlfriend and roommate touching each other. His cock throbs almost painfully in his pants. The air in the room is suffocating him in a good way, pushing pheromones into his lungs.
You push the flimsy garment down her legs, and she lets them fall, pushing them away with her foot. You kiss her again, and slowly she begins to relax. You grab her by the waist so she’s flush against you. The skin on skin has her tingling all over; she swears she feels her arousal on her thighs now.
“Let’s get on the bed, yeah?” You grab her hand, leading her to the bed. As she kneels on it, you return to Dennis, kissing him. Trinity can’t help but notice how firm his grip on your body is, without an ounce of uncertainty. She can understand why you’re so hung up on him. Being touched like that is addictive.
Whitaker swiftly unclips your bra, a sign he’s done it hundreds of times, and pulls off your panties. It’s calculated, measured. He doesn’t just pull them down; he pulls you to him with them, dragging them on your skin. His kisses down your chest, catching a nipple in his mouth. You moan and catch her staring. “He’s really good at that.”
Trinity has to touch herself, or she will combust into flames. Her fingers tentatively slide down her stomach and between her legs, just a touch. You watch her with a wicked smile, undoing Whitaker’s jeans and taking out his cock. Trinity gasps as she shamelessly looks down to look properly for the first time. The first time he’d been balls deep in you.
She can’t say she’s ever thought about Dennis Whitaker’s penis, but it surpasses her expectations. He’s blessed to have a good-looking one. Good length, maybe an inch above average, perfect girth to have her squeezing her thighs. A bead of precum forming on the tip.
You grab his hair and pull him away from your chest to join Trinity on the bed. Dennis watches you go with one last squeeze to your ass. He’s still trying to find his place in this threesome. Playfully, you push your friend down, and she laughs, getting into it. You lean down to kiss Trinity, your thigh between her legs, your breast pressed against hers as your hand caresses her warm body. She moans when her clit drags against your skin. “I like hearing you moan. I want more,” you whisper, kissing down her body. Trinity's body is a mix of soft and firm, and you’re enjoying learning that fact as you kiss her soft stomach.
“No,” Trinity shivers, her hand running through your scalp.
“No?” You tilt your head, stopping your descent, lips pressed on her lower abdomen where a healthy layer of chub has accumulated.
“I believe I was promised a taste first.” Her eyes pierce into yours, and she smirks at your surprise.
Your cheeks heat and nod, kissing her stomach one more time before sneaking a glance at Dennis. He’s watching the interaction fully concentrated, his skin turning pink. Your mouth has already been watering at the prospect of eating her out. You would have your chance, you’d make sure of it, but who are you to deny Trinity? It's all about her getting her confidence back, right? Getting on your back, Trinity kisses your neck, softly sucking on the shell of your ear as she looks over to Whitaker, who has a hand around himself. His strokes are sporadic, unrushed.
Trinity’s fingertips draw a straight line from your sternum to your mound, lightly tracing. Still, looking at Whitaker, she spreads your legs and his eyes instantly flick down to your slick center. Trinity huffs, amused as she settles between your legs, bending at the waist to get a taste.
Whitaker chokes a moan at the crude pose in front of him. His wide eyes are trained on his roommate's pussy as it spreads for him. The sight is compelling, he stands next to you guys on the bed, hand reaching to dance on the skin of her back. They go up the back of her neck, down the curve of her back, until he grabs a hold of her ass.
Trinity shivers at his touch, her skin on fire. You run your fingers through her hair, encouraging her to keep going. You were all about touching her first, and she declined. Now, she’s distracted by your boyfriend, but surely not so much as to forget how to please a woman.
She sticks out her tongue and licks a fat stripe up your slit, taking a raw taste of your essence. Trinity quickly goes for seconds and thirds, zoning in on the sensitive nub atop. “Ah, Trin,” you gasp, back arching, but Trinity has a good hold of your thighs. She continues her torturous ministrations until she finally starts sucking your clit, smooth tongue caressing the underside. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, closing your eyes tight.
“Trinity, making you feel good, baby?” Dennis appears at your side, cupping your cheek as you nod, “So good.”
“She likes it when you use your tongue to tease her entrance,” Dennis tells Trinity, who, for once, is quick to listen. Her mouth was sticky with saliva and your juices.
“Oh,” your eyes roll, reaching for Dennis, urging him down to kiss you, swallowing every moan and plea that threatens to fall from your lips. You always did have an oral fixation.
His hand finds yours, and he pushes it down to his pelvis, where you grab his cock. You’re torn between the two of them, flushed face looking down at Trinity, who is focused on your pleasure, ass up in the air, and hand on Dennis’ length, which you pump as he moans, forehead knocking against yours, and hips tittering against you.
Dennis has one hand on your tit, squeezing, and Trinity on the other. You catch her gaze as she gives you a wink. With a wicked smile, she parts your slit with her fingers. You feel the pressure of her fingers threatening to slide in; you’re needy, nodding for her to go ahead. Dennis watches attentively.
It slides right in wet and warm. A second one quickly follows, “I never thought I’d be knuckle deep in your girlfriend, Huckleberry,” Trinity boasts, watching how you’re taking her fingers so well. You’re good at keeping your legs spread for all to watch.
“Don’t get used to it,” Dennis quips, rubbing a hand on your abdomen comfortingly.
You’re too busy chasing that pleasurable sensation to intervene, undulating your hips on her fingers. “I can tell why you like her so much. Doesn’t she sound so pretty?” Trinity says when you moan her name.
It makes something tick in Dennis, but he has no time to explore it. “Shit, babe,” Dennis hisses when you squeeze a little too hard on his cock. It only makes him harder.
Trinity is slow at first, feeling, analyzing until she curves her fingers to find that spot and offer real pleasure, “Right there,” you suck in a whine, hips bucking.
“Right there, baby? Like this?” Trinity talks you through, curving her fingers over and over. Beckoning your orgasm closer and closer.
“Just like that? Don’t stop.” Your hand reaches for Dennis. You needed something to ground you, to stabilize you. Dennis leans next to you, both arms resting on the bed. He tilts his head, watching you bite your lips, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re going to cum over Trin's hand?”
“Yes, please,” your head turns to look at him, pleading as if he has a say. He could have a say, but he lets Trinity have her fun. Some lines haven’t been crossed yet.
“So polite,” Trinity is smug as she speaks, her confidence trickling in little by little. There’s a stubborn short strand of hair covering her eyes. Whitaker reaches out without thinking, tucking it behind her ear.
“Go on,” he rasps.
Trinity bites back a comment about him acting bossy and ducks down again to suck on your clit. She doesn’t quite understand how Dennis bagged such a woman like you. You can’t stay still as you reach for that precious orgasm Trinity is promising. Dennis helps you, pressing a big hand on your abdomen while the other holds your thigh, giving it a squeeze. He has a first row seat to Trinity’s work. Dennis doesn’t mind the lack of attention; just watching his girlfriend and roommate has him leaking.
You give a silent scream, tensing, your legs shaking, before you relax back on the pillows, panting, a smile breaking out as you look between the two of them. Dennis lies next to you, kissing you with Trinity joining your other side, grabbing your chin so you kiss her instead. Dennis kisses down your neck, sucking on your perked up nipple. His hand dips between your legs, exploring. Your hips jerk lightly when his finger tips brush your sensitive clit, then he traces over your messy hole, wet and clenching, and slides two fingers in. Promptly retreating and smearing it on your chest as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.
Trinity keeps noticing how possessive he seems to be of you, even though he agreed to share the bed. It's carefully measured, the good kind.
There’s a pause. A moment of reprieve as you gather yourself. Dennis and Trinity lock eyes before looking away, still too reluctant and shy despite being at their most vulnerable. “Having fun there?” Trinity says lightheartedly, finger dipping lightly on your belly button, which makes you tense and breathlessly laugh.
“Just a little,” you muse, sitting up in bed as you throw her a look over your shoulder, “But now I’m eager to reciprocate, and you can’t stop me.”
“Sure, you don’t need a minute,” Trinity bluffs, knowing she just rocked your world.
“I can multitask,” you chastise her. You’re slotted between her legs, kissing her pouty lips. Your eyes lock, and she gives you an easy smile. You’re glad she eased into it fairly quickly.
You go slow, taking more time than Trinity thought you would. You make a deal of kissing her sweaty skin, memorizing every centimeter of it. Your lips suck on the spot on the swell of her left breast, a light red mark blooming that will purple by the end of the night.
Your fingers touch her scars, and instead of feeling embarrassed, she simply watches you admire them and kiss them. Then, the inside of her thighs, going as far down as her knee, all while Dennis pets your back, the arch of your lower spine, he grabs your hair away from your face when you kiss her pubic mound, admiring the landing strip she shamefully did for you, both of you. She panicked a couple of days ago. Typically, she doesn’t care; a trim is more than enough, but then she started doubting herself, which, no pun intended, landed her on a landing strip.
“Be patient with me, it’s been a while,” you mumble shyly, kissing the crook of her thigh, lightly licking at the spot.
“You’re, um, you’re doing great so far,” Trinity reassures you, the anticipation making her antsy.
She should’ve known you were trouble. Your lips kissed all around her thighs, mound, pussy lips, except where she needed you most. Your sneaky self was teasing her. You topped it off with a small kiss to her clit, which did nothing but have her voice a small complaint in the form of a whine.
Finally, you start tasting her, all while looking up at her with eyes full of mischief. “Ah, baby, what?” Trinity keens, fisting the dark blue sheets on Whitaker’s bed. You sucked and licked till she dripped on your bed, and only then did you really stimulate her clit, pushing back on the hood, “Holy sh-“
A big, strong hand came to her knee when she tried to close them around your head. She looked indignantly at Huckleberry, her eyes tracing up a strong, veiny hand to bulging biceps, and her pussy clenched. You stifled a laugh, knowing exactly the effect he was having on her. The fact that Trinity shared a fair amount of nights with men, but she strictly preferred women, still didn’t mean she was fully immune to their charm.
You insert two fingers into her warm pussy, and an embarrassing moan spills from her lips, completely whiny and pathetic. She covered her mouth, but the hand on her knee moved to her wrist. Dennis shook his head, lightly chastising her.
“I don’t believe it’s been that long for you.” Trinity is baffled by your oral skills. For someone who mentioned not having done this for years and not regularly either, you’re quite talented.
“What can I say, it’s like riding a bike,” you smile, biting your lip.
You take your time with her, memorizing in equal measure what has her pressing against you and jerking away from stimulation. You bring her to the edge only to bring her back down by kissing her thighs. You’re enjoying the experience of edging Trinity. Of having her beg for you to make her cum and then have her whine out your name when you decide not to. You liked being in control of someone like Trinity.
Trinity’s voice nearly goes raw. “Whitaker, do something about your girlfriend before she kills me,” she tells your boyfriend, a truthful plea as you edge her one more time. Her legs are shaking.
You roll your eyes at her but continue. Dennis, who had been sitting back, admiring how you please his roommate, stands to come behind you. Seeing Trinity like this has him aching for some pleasure of his own. His hands grip your hips as he lines his cock against your pussy. You gasp as he pushes in inch after inch. You’re so wet from eating Trinity out, you need no preparation to receive his length. “There we go, baby,” Dennis grunts.
You moan his name against Trinity’s pussy, which makes her gasp and inch slightly closer to you. She wonders how Whitaker fucking you will get her to cum, yet she’d be a hypocrite if she didn’t admit it was doing something for her. Huckleberry isn’t built with tons of heavy muscle, but he keeps in shape, strong arms and shoulders, pecs lightly defined with a lean abdomen, and the fucking cock that hangs from him. No wonder you go dumb when he starts giving you deep thrusts. “Come on, baby, make Trinity cum.”
“Not yet,” you whine, sloppily making out with her cunt. You enjoyed having the girl who loves control under your hand.
“You want to cum you have to make her cum first,” Dennis promises, slapping your ass to prompt you. Trinity is surprisingly honored that he’s defending her in a way.
You don’t respond, getting a better hold of her thighs as your lips wrap around her puffy clit. Your fingers promptly return, trying to keep the same pace Dennis has you on. The sound of skin slapping, along with the squelching of her pussy is erotic. Trinity leans fully back, teasing her nipples and squeezing her breasts. Your moans send ripples through her.
Suddenly, Dennis stops. He leans over you to whisper in your ear, “Go on, baby, make Trin cum all over your fingers. Make her feel good, just like she did to you. I promise you’ll get to cum on my cock after.” Had Trinity not been so pent up, she would’ve gasped.
You’re selfish in the sense that you’re needy and would do anything for an orgasm. With the opportunity for one seconds away, you nod with glassy eyes. Dennis keeps slow, shallow thrusts as you pick up pace and relocate her sweet spot to bring her over the edge quickly.
“I’m so close,” Trinity nearly sobs. Every push and pull had Trinity sucking your fingers in. Dennis pets your hair as you do, supervising that you do as told. Finally, you add more pressure and Trinity titters over the edge, tensing up and nearly screaming out from the pent-up pleasure. You slow your fingers, carrying her through, soft kisses over her pulsing clit. “Oh my god,” she gasps, fisting the bed sheets.
“Just me,” you hum, with one last kiss to her thigh. “Are you okay?”
“I think so?” She hasn’t orgasmed like that in what seems like forever. Her toes and fingers are tingling for some reason. Propping herself up on her elbow, she catches how you straighten up, wet fingers sliding out of her, and Whitaker takes your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so he can clean them off and taste Trinity for the first time. He maintains eye contact through it all. He’s come so far from the homeless med student he used to be.
Trinity’s head is in a daze as she watches him suddenly start fucking you properly, deep and fast. Your eyes close with pleasure. He holds you upright, hand coming to your clit to run over it with tight circles that have you gasping. She’s transfixed with the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way you moan and smile into it, enjoying the controlled attention to your body. Finally, she hears Whittaker’s grunts and gasps as he fucks you, clearly enjoying it. It’s not what she expected, but it’s pleasant. Her pussy, still twitching with the aftermath of an orgasm, drips at the sight.
“I’m gonna cum, Denny,” you gasp, turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips.
Four deep thrusts and pressure on your clit have you gasping. You bend forward, and Dennis carefully places you down right where he picked you up, between Trinity's legs. Your chest heaves with heavy breaths falling from your lips, but still you smile at her.
Dennis is too concentrated on not cumming, but thoroughly enjoying how your pussy molds against him. There’s a ring right at his base from your arousal. Carefully, he pulls out, and you whine at the sensation. He lovingly thumbs your clit, admiring how your hips jerk from overstimulation.
You climb over Trinity to rest atop of her, her chest rising and falling against yours, and kiss her pouty lips. “Did I do okay?”
Trinity raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think you need me answering that.” Her hands naturally come up to rest on your back, thumb swapping back and forth. “I gotta thank Huckleberry over here, or you would still be torturing me.”
“But it’s fun,” you sing, playing with her hair, brushing the ends of it on her collarbone.
“Your definition of fun is different from everybody else’s,” Dennis says, playfully spanking your ass.
“Hey!” You exclaim, swatting his hand away. “You haven’t complained.” Dennis chuckles and shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“You know Trinity,” you say in a tone that means trouble. Trinity hums, cupping your cheek. She wants to kiss you again. “We haven’t made Dennis cum yet.”
It’s an offer you’re making. There’s an unspoken tension in the room. Dennis and Trinity have barely interacted. When you first thought of a threesome, you believed all three would have equal participation and interaction. Dennis is not going to push for it—despite wanting it— but you will for him. “Do you want to give it a try?” Dennis shuffles next to you, a brief movement that reveals his shyness.
Trinity’s eyes widen as she takes in your words. Her breath was stolen away. “We can end here, no pressure. I’ve had fun, and I want you guys to be comfortable. I just thought I’d throw it out there, but if you think it’ll strain your relationship, we should stop here.” You make it clear that Dennis and Trinity are in control, too. You might’ve taken the reins at first, but you won’t be the instigator who will force something unwanted.
Trinity angles her head to look at Whitaker, and maybe it’s the dim lighting or the nudity, but in that instance, he’s not the same person. She wants Whitaker to have sex with her. She’s curious about how it will feel and whether it’s as good as you make it seem. More importantly, she knows he won’t hold it against her or make it weird afterwards. He’s one of the people she trusts most in this world.
“I want to try,” Trinity says, and Whitaker’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that, sure, she joined them in bed, but he thought she’d be put off by the idea of a man fucking her.
You beam at her answer, “Yes? You want him to fuck you as good as he does me?”
Trinity nods more confidently this time, sitting up along with you. You turn to your boyfriend, who has been silent his whole time, “What about you, Denny? Don’t you want to fuck Trinity?” You know the answer, you knew it since he decided to make his experiment before he had admitted it to himself. Men are easy to read.
“Come on, Dennis. You have to admit how pretty our Trin is,” you purr, kneeling between the two of them in the bed. You touch her breasts, rolling her nipples between your fingers till they are erect. You continue down to her pussy, “She’s still so wet, and her cunt is so warm, I know you’d like it.”
Trinity moans when your fingers dip to swipe over her clit. She decides to look at Huckleberry then, his chest heaving as he watches. His eyes have darkened, and he has a bruising hold on your thigh. She lands on his cock and moans at the simple thought of having him inside.
You redirect your attention to poor Trinity, who has been painfully teased tonight, “Right, Trinity? You’ve seen how good he fucks me; he’s really talented, and it’s shaped so perfectly. Look, it’s the perfect length and heavy, don’t you want to be fucked by something other than silicone? Where you don’t have to do all of the work?”
The tension is too high, breaking suddenly with Dennis and Trinity smashing their lips in a rushed kiss. It takes a moment to be processed, but within seconds, Dennis melts into the kiss, slowing it significantly. You push on their backs so their fronts are pressed flush. Trinity feels his cock pressing on her lower abdomen, warm, heavy, and throbbing. You take her hand on his shoulder and guide it down, encouraging her to touch him.
Dennis is going to hell. This is a different level of sin and impiety. He’s been consumed by lust, and he refuses to go back. Dennis's hands feel big against her skin as he presses them on her back. She’s surprised when he licks at the seam of her lips and opens her mouth. Soon, she remembers who she is, licking the roof of his mouth instead. Her nipples are pressing on his front, and he gathers the courage to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and testing.
He breaks the kiss with hooded eyes and rediscovered drive, kissing down her cheek to her neck. Just as his mouth finds her nipple, his fingers explore her cunt. Trinity hates that you were right; he was good at it. He sucks at her breasts, teeth grazing, squeezing, teasing, but never biting. His tongue soothes over her nipple right as it begins to be overwhelming. It has her reaching a hand to the back of his head to pull him closer.
Dennis grabs the hand wrapped around him and pushes it back; he doesn’t need it. He’s far too focused on Trinity and what he can do for her. He gives a throaty moan at the patch of hair atop her cunt and the smooth slickness of her clit. You lean your head on her shoulder, saying dirty things that she hadn’t even thought of. It has her bucking her hips on Whitaker's hand.
Dennis took advantage of the product, his fingers curious as they poked and prodded. Index and middle finger parting her lips, rubbing the sides of her clit, and lightly dipping into her hole that weeps for him. Dennis straightens up after leaving a light marked on her right breast, opposite to yours. He looks at you for confirmation. Confirmation that you’re okay with his doing this. You smile, silly, it was your idea, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.
Dennis cups Trinity’s face, giving her one short kiss and then another, before he pushes her back to lie on the bed. He’s having trouble recognizing this is the same Trinity that works with him in the ER. Hair loose, skin exposed, skin blushing.
You give her a kiss of your own, spreading her legs to present her to Dennis, you have her bend her legs, folding them upwards, so she’s completely exposed to him. Still flexible. Dennis kneels right between them, touching her legs, giving them a reassuring squeeze. For a moment, he hesitates, aware of the line he’s crossing.
Trinity observes and notices how his cock is leaking for her. Glad she’s not the only pathetic one in this situation. You’re the only one holding on to your dignity. “Go on, Denny, don’t get shy now,” you lightly quip. You were excited to witness your boyfriend fuck his roommate.
The hesitation dissolves into nothingness because right in front of him is a gorgeous woman, wet and spread for him. Dennis splays a hand on her tummy, touching her, warming her up, and Trinity’s hand comes up to clutch his. “Start slow.” She’s nervous; it’s been a long time since she’s been with a man, and quite honestly, she’s forgotten how different or similar it might feel. Not to mention Huckleberry is surprisingly well-endowed.
Dennis nods, but before he slides his cock inside, he leans down to kiss her. Sweet Huckleberry, the sensitive boy, Trinity thinks not wanting to admit to herself that it helps her relax, too. She jumps when he rubs his cock through her folds, making it slick as he notches his cock on her entrance. You watch entranced by it all; you were a filthy liar if this wasn’t turning you on immensely. You wish you had your dildo to fuck yourself while you watched your boyfriend fuck another girl. Trinity Santos at that.
Slowly, he inches in until he’s buried to the hilt. Trinity hisses and gasps. “Okay?” Dennis asks Trinity through gritted teeth. “How does it feel, Trin?” You follow up, caressing her cheek.
“Fucking full—fuck.” There is an ache deep in her, besides the stretch of his cock on her gummy walls, and Whitaker is going to take care of it.
“It’s okay, he’ll take it slow, right, baby?”
“Yea-,” he curses when Trinity purposefully clenches around him. She’s so fucking warm and snug around him. He’s been pent up too long. He needs to control himself. The last thing he needs is to cum before he makes her cum, and you know that.
Santos would never let him live it down.
You reach to the tight circles on her clit, telling Dennis to start fucking her. He starts off slow, gauging her reactions. “Don’t worry, Huckleberry, I won’t break,” she moans, getting cocky.
Dennis has heard her moans before tonight coming through the walls, but hearing her moan his name live and clear did something to him. Made him feel in control, powerful, like he could do anything. His hands plant themselves on her soft curves, giving him the leverage to push deep.
Trinity forgets about being shy as she moans at the sensation of his pelvis smacking against the most sensitive areas. The slickness between the adding another thick layer of stimulation.
You stop rubbing her clit to give her some reprieve. A moment to be purely in touch with Whitaker. Trinity couldn’t close her eyes for long; she had to pay attention to everything going on. She had to look at Whitaker as he took charge of her body.
“Tell him how good he’s making you feel.” You order Trinity, licking your fingertips and pulling gently at her nipples. Her body reacts to your touch by milking Dennis's cock.
“Making me feel good, Huckleberry,” Trinity mumbles, biting her lips when he gives a particularly hard thrust.
“Try again, Trinity, you can do better than that,” you lightly chide, holding your hand on her sternum. Gentle pressure that grounds her.
Trinity is overwhelmed, her eyes watering with each earth-shattering thrust, “I love the way your cock is fucking me, Huck-“
“No, Trinity, that’s not his name,” you say firmly, gripping her chin to look at you for just a moment, “Look at him and tell Dennis how good he’s fucking you,”
“You gotta be kidding me,” she puffs, face turning redder.
“If you don’t, I’ll tell him to stop,” you threaten, looking over at Dennis. You don’t think he’s quite involved in the conversation between you and Trinity. There’s a layer of sweat on him, making him look very handsome. “He’ll listen to me.”
You’re proven wrong when Dennis adjusts his hold, hiking Trinity’s hips higher. It’s a position you know well, and that will get Trinity to say his given name. “Ah,“ Trinity gasps when he adjusts her position, hitting that spot nearly perfectly. Her ass off the bed, atop of his thighs as he pushes right into her spongy spot. “D-Dennis!”
Dennis bites back a smug smirk, “Yeah, Trin?”
“You’re fucking me so good, fuck, please make me cum, Dennis,” Trinity begs, finding his hands and clutching onto them. She’ll have bruises tomorrow.
You lock eyes with Dennis and smile, nodding, you pick yourself up from Trinity’s side and kneel behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist, encouraging him to make her cum. You throw in dirty comments while kissing his shoulder blades, your voice offering him a familiarity he’s so obsessed with.
Trinity is holding tightly onto his arms, begging and mumbling things you don’t quite understand. Dennis cock is messy with their arousal, Trinity’s clit swollen, ready for release. He feels when she’s close by how her thighs shake. Putting her out of her misery, he rubs her clit to make her cum around him.
“AH!” she screams, “Yes, yes, yes,”
Dennis grunts, ”Fuck, you’re choking my cock such a pretty, tight pussy,” Her walls clench and the small gush that flows around him has him ready to bust. With sheer will and a slight pull from you, he pulls out, and you pump his cock so he ejaculates over Trinity's stomach.
Dennis slowly relaxes, leaning back on his haunches and softly releasing Trinity from the tight hold he had on her hips.
They are both breathless, muscles going slack as endorphins and oxytocin flood their bodies. Dennis slowly lies back in bed, exhausted but pleased. You step back between Trinity's legs, leaning down to lick at Dennis spent on her skin. You lick all of it, swallowing most but leaving some in your mouth as you search for Trinity's mouth, where you pinch her cheeks for her mouth to open, as you let some of it drip down to her mouth before you kiss her and force her to swallow.
“Fuck me, you'll be the death of me,” Dennis groans, watching.
There’s a lull where you all pick yourselves back up. The post nut clarity of everything you did settling in. You giggle, and both look at you weirdly, “That was so much, much. I gotta go pee though,” you chirp, standing and leaving the room.
Trinity and Dennis are left alone in the bedroom. The realization of what they did settled in the silence.
“We’re good, right?” Dennis questions.
“Yep, Yup, this changes nothing, Huckleberry, don’t worry,” Trinity blurts instantly, going back to the nickname he’s had from the first day they met.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” He timidly asks, reverting to the person she's always known. Sweet, caring, and slightly insecure Dennis.
Trinity laughs, not out of mockery but disbelief, “You don’t get to ask me that after you fucked my brains out.”
Dennis' eyes went wide, but a small, pleased smile broke out on his face. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I really didn’t expect you to be so…” She tries to express what she’s trying to with her hands, but comes up short.
“So what?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, already waiting for a backhanded compliment.
“Dominant, I guess,” Trinity presses her lips together, further adding, “That sounds bad, I just mean that you’re firm and easily take control. In a good way!”
“You thought I’d be pushed around all aspects of my life,” the accusation is there, yet he says it so casually.
“Well, no, I guess not.” It’s not confident by any means. “You stopped being like that after intern year.”
You come back into the room, a large t-shirt covering your frame. “You guys debriefed? All good?”
“Yeah, we did. Did you have to put on clothes, though? We’re still vulnerable here,” Trinity waves over her and Whitaker, who are still very naked. She should’ve known you left to give them the space to talk. You’re hyper-aware like that. It’s something she likes about you, you know when to pull and push.
“Take it off and come join us, we’re not ready to get up yet,” Dennis calls out with a flick of his head.
“You guys just want to look at my tits,” you mumble, but comply and get back on the bed.
Dennis is right in between the two of you. Flinching when you decide to poke his side, prompting Trinity to do the same. He halfheartedly scolds you both, flinching when you try to tickle him again. A soft conversation arising as you and Dennis reassure Trinity that she's hot and smart and capable and everything someone with good taste could wish for.
When morning comes, everything falls back into place. Trinity retreats to her room to complete her rehearsed routine before work, and you take off for the gym with a kiss on his lips.
Everything settled comfortably. No awkwardness. You, Dennis, and Trinity fell into the good old routine. You even went with them to the bar a couple nights later to find Trinity a date, which went very successfully. The way Trinity carried herself was different, relaxed and confident. No more thinking about Garcia or the hateful words she spewed.
Their erotic night is only brought up once, months later. “I never properly thanked you for that night. It really helped.”
Dennis is deep in charting when Trinity brings it up. It takes him a moment to register what she means. “Oh, no problem." His face heats up, vividly remembering that night.
Trinity can’t handle the serious atmosphere, so she does what she does best. “You’re lucky you got to her first, Huckleberry.”
“Or what you would’ve dated her?” Dennis scoffs, leaning back on the chair.
“Hell yeah,” Trinity exclaims, “A girl that hot and talented,” she whispers, ducking down to make sure no one hears.
“I don’t think so,” Dennis shakes his head with a grimace.
“I wouldn’t be so confident she was dripping for me,” Trinity purses her lips, typing in an order for a patient.
“I’m confident in my abilities to please her.” His voice is steady and confident, and he looks away from Trinity to continue his charting.
Trinity flicks her hair over her shoulder, waving him off, “Okay, I wouldn’t get too cocky.”
Dennis takes a beat, deciding if he wants to respond to that. “No? I kinda remember someone going ‘Oh Dennis, fuck yeah, make me cum, yes yes yes.’”
Trinity thanks whatever god exists that the ED is loud and everyone is busy. “HUCKLEBERRY!” She exclaims, raising a hand to slap whatever part of him she can reach first, but he’s already running, grabbing a tablet from a nurse. “I’ve created a monster.”
enjoyed the fic? leave a comment or a reblog, id love to read what you thought even if its just a key board smash, if not...a heart is good too
butch r talking big shit about their strap game to butch santos and jokingly saying she couldn’t ever match up to them. santos takes it as an insult and goes full nuclear and just has to teach r who the top (pun intended) dog really is. r who refuses to give santos the satisfaction of seeing them fall apart but it’s been so long since they were the one getting strapped not the one doing the strapping so they’re really sensitive and it feels so good and santos is so big and eventually they start babbling and drooling … butch santos who doesn’t let r cum until they concede … butch r who gets so annoyed with santos’ teasing in the days after that they need to reassert their dominance and santos ends up face-down ass-up over the arm of her own couch … butch santos who’s embarrassed at the fact she came on r’s strap multiple times and needs to feel in control again … cycle repeats and keeps repeating … BATTLE OF THE BUTCHES !!
pairing: trinity santos x butch!reader
genre: full on smutttt.
wc: 1,196
"I bet your stroke game is weak."
"You could never match up to my game."
"Probably wouldn't last a minute with me."
These are all things you said to Santos to talk shit about her strap game.
And now you're in her bedroom, getting pounded on her bed, and struggling not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble and eat your words.
It’s been ages since you were the one getting fucked into the mattress. Usually it’s you who does the topping. You haven’t had a strap this thick and big inside of you for so long, and it’s making it so hard to try and hide your moans from Santos. She fills you up so nicely, makes your eyes roll to the back of your head each time her strap hits that sweet spot.
You swallow down a whiny moan and grip the bed sheets in your hands. Trinity’s eyes are gleaming with pride because she knows it’s all an act. That harsh glare on your face? Fake. She’s watched it fall, watched your lashes flutter when she slammed her hips roughly into yours, strap buried as deep as it could get. Her eyes have dropped to your swollen lips, where you keep biting them to hide your pathetic moans from her.
“Still think my game is weak?” Santos asks breathlessly, voice wavering from how hard she’s fucking you.
You choke down your moan. “Fuck you.”
Trinity’s hands grip your waist to steady herself as she begins to pound into you even faster. The air leaves your lungs. Your lashes flutter repeatedly as you melt back into the pillow. The filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin and your juices squelching fill the room.
You begin to fall apart. You go dumb on her thick strap.
Trinity’s eyes light up with joy as you release whiny moans. Her heart flutters when you start babbling incoherently.
She leans down and places an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, clit throbbing when you whine right into her ear. Her head starts to get fuzzy as she listens to your babbling.
“So good…fuck…feelssogood…”
And then you start pawing at her sides, trapping your legs around her waist as you push into her strap.
“Gonna cum,” you moan, dragging your lips against her neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Trinity sits up and pushes your arms off her, holding them above your head.
“You’re not cumming until you admit I have better strap game.”
You can’t admit it. You’re too arrogant to say it. You whine and shake your head, clamping your legs tighter around Trinity’s waist. In response, Trinity loosens her grip on your wrists and forces your legs off her, holding them open and halting her movements.
Your pussy clenches around her strap, making that pressure build more and more.
“Admit it,” she hisses. “I’m better.”
You turn your head away from her, babbling and drooling and begging for her to let you cum. You’ll say anything but what she wants you to say.
Trinity slams her strap into you once, and the words come spilling out of your throat.
“You’re better. You’re better than me.” You repeat it over and over as she fills you up, head spinning, mouth drooling.
Satisfied, Trinity whispers, “Come on my cock.”
You leave her place with a bruised ego. And bruised insides.
Even days after the whole thing, you could still feel her thick strap fill you up. You felt her hands on your body when you would be doing something completely innocent, like folding laundry. You’d hallucinate her grunts and moans and feel yourself grow wet.
Trinity won’t stop making fun of you for admitting it.
You forgot just how annoying she could be with her teasing until you saw her at work the day after you were in her bed, drooling and moaning for her strap. Her mocking words made you irritated but also wet. You couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand her arrogance as she boasted about reducing you to a dumb fucking mess.
You needed to reassert your dominance. To show her who’s boss around here. Show her that you can make her start begging and whining with only a few strokes.
One stressful shift later, and Santos is bent over the arm of her own couch, drooling onto the cushion, her cum dripping down her thighs and onto the floor. She’s made such a mess.
“I’d tell you to admit I’m the better fuck, but I don’t think you can even speak right now.”
Trinity babbles in response, moans muffled into the couch cushion as you fuck her from behind. Her pussy is gripping you so tight, like she doesn’t ever want you to leave her. And she doesn’t. She’s drunk on you.
She’s cum a total of three times already. And you’re coaxing a fourth one from her, eager to get her to squirt so you have something to brag about.
Plus, it’d be hot as fuck.
Grabbing Trinity’s messy ponytail, you yank her head up so you can hear her moans loud and clear. She sounds so good when she’s whining for you. Sounds so pretty when she hisses in pleasure when you slap her ass and thrust so hard the couch moves forward.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?" you ask, nails scratching against her scalp, making Trinity’s body shudder. “Being filled to the brim with my cock? Cumming on it multiple times, letting yourself go dumb while I fuck you good?”
Trinity nods her head weakly, throat releasing a raspy whimper. She’s entirely too strapdrunk to keep being a brat. She provoked you too much, and now she’s a dumb, drooling mess who can’t even defend herself from your teasing words.
She ends up fucking herself even dumber on your strap when you make her ride you. And she does end up squirting. All over your stomach. You were so turned on you couldn’t even tease her for it at first.
After helping her come down from her high, she naps on your chest while cockwarming you. When she wakes up, the embarrassment hits her. Her cheeks are flushed, both from the nap and from the realization that she came multiple times from your strap. You’re not in bed anymore, and she ignores that sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving her alone.
She finds you in the kitchen, wearing her boxers and making dinner.
“I thought you left,” she mumbles, walking next to you and digging in the fridge for a drink because she’s parched.
“I wouldn’t leave before hearing you admit that I have better game,” you tease, smirking at her as she rolls her eyes and sips on her orange drink.
“You were a drooling mess in my bed a few days ago,” Trinity reminds you.
“Sure,” you shrug. “But I only came once. You came three times. Plus, you squirted on me.”
Trinity huffs and crosses her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I could easily show you who’s in control here.”
Stomach bubbling with excitement, you lower the heat on the stove and turn to her.
Summary: You can't say no to anything Dani asks you to do, knowing this, Dani asks you to help her protege with her first time.
Megan x g!p reader, non binary reader
Warnings: Still dk how this shit works so, p in v, fingering, virgin, blood, pop culture references blah blah blah.
Authors note: This was supposed to be posted on May 1st, but I haven't been on tumblr lately and I forgot to post it. Also, I'm loving Megan's back tattoo like she looks so hot 🤩😍...sorry just had to say it. Anyway, enjoy or not, again do as you want, I am not your dad I don't tell you what to do.
A year had passed since you and Daniela became a couple, and it had been wonderful. You loved each other intensely, and the sex was incredible. For your first anniversary, you spent the entire weekend in a hotel, barely leaving the bed except to go to the bathroom. A year had passed since you started dating, and you were still just as, or even more, in love with her. She didn't seem to get tired of you; in fact, she was quite the opposite. She was sweet, attentive, loving, and a little jealous, but in a good way. Everything was going well.
About three months ago, Daniela had introduced you to a new friend of hers, Megan. She was the younger sister of Daniela's cousin's boyfriend and had recently enrolled in college because she wanted to change her major.
"My cousin asked me to help her, to guide her through college, to hang out with her, to introduce her to my friends—in short, to not leave her alone," Daniela explained when she first told you about her.
"So she'll basically be like your protégé."
"I guess so. She's a nice girl, just a little clumsy and shy."
"Are you sure you're describing her and not me?" you asked jokingly.
"You're clumsy, but the difference is that you're mine, and I forgive you for it because you're cute."
When you and Daniela's friends met Megan, you realized Daniela was right. Megan was a pretty girl, a little shy at first, and a passionate gamer. The first time you met her, you talked about Mortal Kombat, Marvel Rivals, and other games. Now you were closer and played together along with Yoonchae once or twice a week.
Several days after a particularly wild Valentine's Day party where Daniela lost sight of her protégé because she was too busy fucking with you in a bathtub, something unexpected happened.
"Cariño, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," you replied, sitting next to her, distracted, finishing a crossword puzzle on the sofa.
"Have you ever done it with a virgin?" she asked softly.
You immediately put down the crossword and looked at Daniela to answer.
"Um...yes, a couple of times, but you already knew."
"Yeah, but I'd like you to give me details," she said, her voice with a sexier tone this time.
"Baby, do you want to roleplay?" you asked shyly.
"No, not exactly..." she said, her hands on your thighs and her lips near your ear, whispering, "I just want details. Did you make them feel good? Were they comfortable? Did you make them come on that big cock of yours?"
By then you were hard, and unable to properly process Daniela's questions, especially since her hands had moved from your thighs to your cock, slowly caressing it.
"I think so, um..." you said nervously, trying to remember those times with Cailee and Sophie respectively, "yes, I think so, I...um, you know I'm always sweet even if I might seem silly, I, um...yes."
Daniela didn't ask again and instead began kissing you passionately, her hands undoing the buttons and zipper of your pants and grabbing your cock at the base.
"Would you do it again?" she asked again, her voice firmer but just as sensual, "for me?"
Then, as excited as you were, your brain glitched for a moment and then you hesitated, gently taking her wrist and stopping her.
"Babe, what are you talking about?" Seeing that she was taking a while to answer, you panicked, "You want to break up with me because of that?"
"No, no, no, cariño, not at all," she said, trying to clarify things, her voice soft and understanding again. "It's quite the opposite."
"What?" you sighed softly. "Dani, you know I'm kinda slow. What do you mean?"
She giggled and removed her hand from your cock, then tucked it back into your boxers. The confusion had made you less hard now.
"You're not slow, amor," she assured you, giving you a quick kiss before continuing. "It's about Megan."
"What about her?"
"You know she's kind of like my protégé, and she told me something after the Valentine's Day party..."
"She got mad because you lost sight of her for a moment when we were in the bathtub?"
"No, and to be fair, it was more than a moment," Daniela admitted, blushing. "We were in there for almost two hours."
"And it would have been longer if we hadn't been interrupted," you said with a smile.
She giggled a little and slapped you on the thigh. Her face flushed immediately, just like yours. It was Megan who had interrupted you both. You were both standing in the bathtub, and you were fucking Daniela from behind when the door suddenly opened and Megan appeared, her eyes wide, apologizing several times before closing the door and running away.
"Stop, you're distracting me from what I want to tell you!"
"Okay, what is it? What did Megan tell you?"
"She's a virgin, and she walked on us like that, and she got a little scared," Daniela explained shyly.
"Oh, well then, talk to her, tell her it's not a big deal," you said simply.
"I already did, but she's seeing someone and wants to sleep with him, but..."
"The emo wannabe? Yoonchae's words not mine."
"Yeah, but she's afraid he won't be as special as she wants," Daniela explained, her right hand resting on your thigh again.
"The first time is never special, she'll get over it."
"I know, baby, but I want to help make it special for her..."
"Do you like Megan?" you asked, scared once again, "because we're not in an open relationship and I'm not sure..."
"No, cariño, no," Daniela said, trying to calm you down, then she put her hand over your mouth. "Let me explain properly, and then you can ask questions and panic all you want, okay?"
You frowned slightly but nodded.
"Look, you said it yourself before, Megan is my protégé, and I want to help her have her first time with someone who takes care of her, someone who is sweet, makes her feel good, and knows what they're doing," Daniela said, winking at you and removing her hand from your mouth.
"So?"
"So?" Daniela rolled her eyes, let out a sigh of exasperation, gave you a light tap on the head with her palm, and continued speaking.
"You, baby, I want you to do it with her."
"No!" you said, confused. "No? You're testing me, aren't you?"
"No, this is serious," Dani clarified, taking your hands in hers and looking into your eyes. "I love you, and I know you love me so much that you would never cheat on me or hurt me in any way."
"So you're not joking?" you asked incredulously.
"No, I know you would never hurt someone I care about as much as Megan, and I know you'd do anything for me," she said, smiling, her hands on your neck, caressing your hair.
"Yes, I'd do anything for you, my love!"
"Then do it with Megan. I won't be jealous. I think I can share you just this once. What do you say, amor?" By then, Daniela was sitting on your erection, her lips whispering against yours.
"Yes, yes, yes, I'll do it, just this once, just for you, babe" you said desperately before kissing her and leading her to her room.
//-///-///-///
"And you're saying she's okay with all this?" you asked again, sitting on the bed, your hands fiddling with the edge of Daniela's sheets.
"Yeah, actually, she thinks you're cute," she replied distractedly, putting on your shirt and then walking toward the bathroom.
You blushed slightly and got out of bed to follow Daniela and continue asking questions.
"That's new... and you're one hundred percent sure you want me to do this?"
Daniela looked up at you from where she was sitting on the toilet and spoke patiently.
"For the thousandth time, yes, I do agree," she then reached out and took your hips, pulling you a little closer. "I love you and I trust you..."
"You know you can tell me if you change your mind, okay?" you said, a little uncertain. "Because, even though the proposal seems appealing, I'll do whatever you tell me!"
"I know, amor," she said with a smile. "Don't worry, it'll be fine, even if it's her first time and you might be a little clueless. I know you know what you're doing!"
//-///-///-///
You were sitting on Megan's bed. She lived with her brother and his grilfriend in some apartments near campus. You didn't know what to do or how to act; you were pretty nervous. Megan was sitting next to you, wearing gray sweatpants, a white top, and snoopy socks. You were just wearing a Zoro t-shirt from One Piece, jeans, and Converse sneakers.
"So...how do you want to start?" she asked in a low voice, without looking you in the eye.
"Uh...well, umm, I'm not sure," you said nervously. "What do you like?"
"I like One Piece too," she said, pointing to your t-shirt.
"I know, Megan. We talked about this last week when we played Marvel Rivals," you said, smiling.
"Oh, yeah, of course," she said, blushing and covering her face. "I'm sorry, I'm nervous."
"It's okay," you said, gently taking her hands and uncovering her face. "I'm a little nervous too."
"You? Nervous? But Dani said you know what you're doing," Megan said, sounding both surprised and scared.
"Yeah, I know...it's just that," you said quickly to avoid scaring her, "it's been a while since the last time."
Megan nodded silently and again avoided your gaze to speak.
"Dani said that we could kiss too...if you want."
"Yes!" you said, excited and relieved that she was taking the initiative, at least at first. "It's a good way to start. Can I kiss you?"
Megan nodded, a small smile appearing on her face as you leaned in to kiss her. At first, it was soft and sweet, and you only deepened the kiss when you felt Megan's hands grip your shirt above your abdomen. You heard her let out a soft moan between kisses, and despite finding it adorable, you decided to pull away slightly.
"Can I? Can I do this?" you asked, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer, your lips on her neck. She just nodded, her mouth slightly open, her hands now gripping your shoulders.
You began kissing and licking her neck, her pulse quickening beneath your lips. Your hands moved from her waist to her torso, you could hear her breathing racing slightly and softer moans escaped her lips. Taking advantage of your hands on her torso, you gently pushed her down, making her lie down.
"Megan..." you whispered, your lips close to her ear, before returning to kissing her neck.
"Yes?" she asked, distracted by your caresses.
"Can I take off your blouse and touch your breasts?"
"Yeah..." You had just started to lift her blouse when you felt her hands on your face and looked up at her. "You gotta ask everything?"
"Um...yep, it's called consent, so..." you explained briefly, continuing to remove her clothes once she seemed to understand.
Your hands easily unhooked her bra and began to gently touch her breasts. You felt her body react; her back arched slightly, seeking contact, and then you brought your mouth close to one of her breasts.
"Can I?" you asked, looking at her expectantly. She nodded quickly, her hand resting on your head, gently caressing you. "As sweet as you look nodding like that, I need verbal confirmation, Meg."
"Yes, yes..." she said quickly.
And you began to lick and gently suck. Her nipples were hard, and you could feel her body writhing with your caresses. She continued to moan softly and tangled her fingers in your hair, tugging a little. You lingered like that for a while before returning to kiss her neck and asking her again.
"Can I take your pants off?" You paused briefly before continuing, "Can I touch you? I want to feel how wet you are, Meg."
"Yes, do it, yeah..." she said, her voice no longer soft, but rather excited, and she took your face in her hands to kiss you.
You quickly removed her sweats and lightly touched her soaked underwear. She moaned a little louder and began kissing your neck. By this point, your erection was rock hard, trapped in your jeans, but you let it be, at least for now. You delicately removed her panties and placed your hand between her legs.
"All right, cutie, I want you to please spread your legs for me, okay?"
"Okay..." she said between sighs and moans.
You ran your fingers from below her pussy, wetting them with her moisture, and caressed upwards between her folds, lightly brushing against her swollen and flushed clitoris. You heard Megan let out increasingly loud moans and push her hips upwards, seeking contact.
"Can I put my fingers inside?" Megan looked at you for a moment in surprise. "One by one, tell me if you want to stop..."
"Yeah!" she said in a more animated tone.
You gently inserted your index finger and felt how soft and wet she was. You began to move it slowly, and she started to move her hips down and moan louder. Luckily, her brother and his girlfriend were away on a trip. You started to insert another finger and looked at her to confirm that she was okay. She responded with several quick "yeses" and more moans, so you move on, and wow, she was tight. You could only imagine how good it would feel to be inside her while you were fucking her with your fingers, your lips showering kisses between her mouth and her breasts. You didn't even have time to add another finger when you felt her come on your hand. You continued touching her until her breathing returned to normal, and you felt her hand on your wrist.
"I'm sorry... I," you said, embarrassed. "Was it okay?"
"Oh, yeah..." she said, blushing, her eyes widening as she saw you casually licking your fingers. "I don't think I've ever came so fast."
"Great!" you said, smiling. "Want to continue?"
"Yeah, let's continue," she said, reaching for your jeans and unbuttoning them. You looked at her in surprise. "Can I take this off?"
"I'm the one who asks the questions," you assured her. "You can do whatever you want with me."
She let out a small giggle and continued pulling down your pants until you pushed them past your ankles. Then, taking your word for it that she could do whatever she wanted with you, she placed the palm of her hand on your erection, covered by your now damp boxers.
"You're hard, and leaking," she warned, looking at you mischievously.
"Yeah, well, it's hard not to be when you just came in my hand," you said proudly.
"Can I see it?" she asked again, a little nervous.
"Okay," you said simply, taking off your boxers. Your cock sprang out, pressing against your abdomen.
"Wow..." Megan exclaimed, her eyes wide again. "Dani said you were big, but I didn't think you were this big."
"Oh...yeah, if you changed your mind, that's fine," you said immediately. "I can manage on my own..."
"No, not at all, it's just that...I'm surprised," she said confidently, then ran her fingers over the tip. You stifled a moan. "I want to do it."
"Okay," you said, smiling, then rummaged in your jeans pockets. "Just let me put on a condom and..."
"It's not necessary," she said, placing her hand on your shoulder. "Dani said it's better if you don't use one."
"Oh...umm," you said, confused, speaking quickly and trying to make sense of your words. "Well, Dani has an IUD, so...you, on the other hand, well, it's your first time, and I literally can't promise I won't come inside...well, I do can like not cum inside you...it will be hard... but if I do, I can buy you a plan b right away."
"No problem," Megan said, smiling at your nerveousism, reaching for something on the nightstand next to her bed. She opened a drawer, took out a tablet with pills, and showed it to you. "Dani gave me these about a week ago."
"So she knew I'd be okay with this!" you said, a little indignant at the sight of the pills. Megan just chuckled.
"She said you couldn't say no to anything she asked you"
"She's right!" you admitted, blushing.
Megan, noticing this, leaned in to kiss you. You simply accepted, continuing the kiss until you laid her back down on the bed. Then you kissed her neck, and your hand slipped between her thighs. She opened her legs to allow you to position yourself between them. You began to move the head of your dick over the folds of her pussy. She moved her hips, seeking more contact, and moaned loudly when the head of your dick grazed her clitoris. You smiled at her and guided your cock to her entrance. It helped that she had recently come and was so wet, but you still knew it was going to hurt.
You then remembered that it had happened the same way with Cailee, the first virgin girl you'd been with. She cried a little and asked you to kiss her until she calmed down. With Sophie, the other virgin girl, it was a little different. You ate her up to enter ritgh after she came. It was her idea; according to her, that way it wouldn't hurt so much. But it still hurt, and she ended up hitting your chest until she calmed down. Then she apologized and insisted on buying you Monsters for the rest of the week.
"It's going to hurt a little," you warned softly, looking Megan in the eyes. "I want to tell you right now that I'm sorry, and if you want to stop, just say so. I'll do whatever you want..."
"Okay, I trust you," Megan said, looking somewhat expectant but not scared.
"Okay..."
Then you began to penetrate her slowly. When the head of your cock was inside, you felt Megan's breathing quicken and she tried to stifle moans. You continued until you were halfway in, and that's when she started to cry, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your skin.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I can stop if you want, or pull out," you said nervously. Then you tried to caress her clitoris to help her relax a little.
"No, just keep doing that while you put the rest in," she said between sobs.
You continued, following her instructions and kissing her cheeks gently. When you were almost completely inside her, she let out a moan and placed her hands on your chest to stop you.
"Wait, ahhh, it burns!" she said, her voice trembling and her eyes filled with tears.
"Okay, you're doing great, Meg. You feel so good. Just relax for me, okay, cutie?" you said, pausing mid-act. Then you kissed her tenderly. "Almost there, I'm almost there."
"Just go slow..." she whispered, hugging you tightly, her legs wrapped around your hips.
You finished entering her and stayed still, waiting for her to adjust to you. Her breathing slowed, and her sobs faded as she slowly began to move her hips.
"That's it, Meg," you said, feeling her move more freely, your cock pressed tight inside her, feeling the heat and wetness. "Are you okay?"
"You can move," Megan said, her voice still breathless and whining, "but do it slowly."
You started to pull out, leaving only the head of your cock inside, and then gently thrust back in with swift movements. It felt incredible how tight she was, the pressure you felt each time you penetrated her, almost as if she didn't want to let go.
"Holy fuck! Meg, you're so tight, you take me so well," you said, stifling a moan against her neck, her hands releasing your shoulders to scratch your back.
"Oh my god, how you fill me like this," she moaned, squeezing your member with her walls, "faster..."
"Are you sure?" you asked to confirm what she wanted, as you felt her hips rise to meet your thrusts.
"Yes, go faster!"
You started moving faster, and you felt her grip on your cock loosen just a little. Each time you were fully inside her, she felt tighter again. The sheets of her bed were a mess beneath you both, sweat and your hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. Her breathing racing again, her lips parted as she moaned with pleasure and repeated your name. You could feel her pulse pounding against your chest with each thrust. That's when you glanced at her breasts, her nipples hard and pink. Your gaze followed until it met where your bodies met, faint traces of blood on her thighs and on your cock.
"Hmm," you muffled a groan in your throat and kissed her again, shifting your hips slightly to get a better look. "...it feels so good."
Megan sensed something in your gaze and the change in your movements. She lowered her curious eyes, then moaned a little louder and hugged you, burying her face in your neck.
"Fuck, there's blood!" she whispered shyly.
"I know, that's normal, Meg," you said, slowing your movements and taking her face in your hands so she would look at you. "Does it hurt a lot?"
"No, it still stings a little...it's just so embarrassing," Megan said, avoiding your eyes, her face red with embarrassment.
"I don't think so," you said, searching her gaze until she gave in. "I like it. You have no idea how hard I'm trying not to come right now."
She let out a relieved giggle and hugged you, her arms wrapping around your neck as you thrust into her again, faster and harder.
"Yeah, keep going," she moaned again, moving faster against you, her thighs wrapping around your hips, her grip on your neck tighter. "It feels so good, yeah, more!"
You continued, thrusting faster and deeper, kissing her neck and caressing her breasts, your pelvis grinding against her clit. Her moans were now cries of pleasure, her eyes filling with tears again. You kissed the sides of her eyes and cheeks, whispering how good she was doing, how good it felt, how beautiful she looked, how sexy her moans were. Her walls tightened around your cock, and you felt like you couldn't breathe, but you didn't stop. Instantly, you felt her body tremble beneath yours, heard her sob and come hard, the echo of your name on her lips.
Her arms remained around your neck, hugging and squeezing you tighter and tighter. The pressure on your throat felt both uncomfortable and exciting; it was hard to breathe. You thrust a couple more times until you came hard inside her. Her grip on your neck tightened as she felt you fill her, and she sobbed a little more, moaning softly. Soon after, you started to feel breathless and decided to say something before you began to feel dizzy.
"Megan, let go a bit..." you said, gently stroking her arms. "I can't breathe."
"Oh shit," she gasped, instantly releasing her grip and placing her hands on your shoulders. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, cutie!" you said, pulling away slightly without fully pulling out. When you looked back, you noticed it had happened again, and your cum had leaked out of her pussy, along with her own orgasm and small traces of blood. You decided not to say anything and turned your attention back to her, who was still recovering from her orgasm.
"Was it good?" you asked, now more cautiously than before.
Megan smiled and cupped your face to kiss you.
"It was great, thanks!"
"No problem, Meg," you said, smiling. Then you started to move slightly away. "Do you want me to pull out now?"
Megan shook her head, still smiling.
"It feels so good, just a bit longer."
"Okay!" you said, then picked her up and turned her over so she was on top of you.
She sighed in surprise and moaned softly at the movement, then you gently began to brush her hair away from her face.
"Are you okay? Did you like it? Do you need anything?"
She kissed you again before speaking.
"Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked shyly. "Please."
You thought about it for a moment, remembering that Dani had told you that you could stay the night and make sure Megan was okay. So you nodded, which made Megan smile again and kiss you. That's when you started getting hard again, and it didn't help that Megan was moaning between kisses and moving her hips slowly and seductively.
"You're hard again!" she said excitedly, then laid her chest against yours and started kissing your neck.
"Meg, I can take care of myself..." you said, putting your hands on her hips to turn her over, pull out, and go to the bathroom.
"But I want to do it again, don't you?" she asked, pouting and tilting her head like a puppy.
"Whatever you want, cutie," you said, turning her over so you were on top of her and started thrusting into her again.
"You are the best first time ever!" Megan said in a sing-song tone, smiling.
///-///-///-///
You woke up with no memory of where you were and feeling the weight of a body on your chest. Almost instantly you knew it wasn't Daniela because her hair felt smoother, her scent was different, and there was a bit of saliva on your collarbone. Besides, whenever you woke up next to Daniela, even if you were still drowsy, your heart would start pounding.
Then you remembered the night before, the nerves, Megan, how it felt to be inside her, to hear her moans and sobs, her lips on yours and her long hands scratching your back. She seemed to be fast asleep, clutching your chest, so you carefully slid under her, placing a pillow between her arms so she wouldn't notice your absence. Before getting out of bed, you remembered it had been her first time, so you lifted the sheet covering her from the waist down and noticed that between her legs, as well as on yours, there were dried traces of both of your fluids. You could also see that her lips were swollen from the position she was in. You felt your morning erection leak a bit and headed to the bathroom, but not before covering her with the sheet again, you had come inside her twice last night, fallen asleep shortly after, and weren't sure that Megan had taken the pill. When looking at the pillbox on the nightstand, you noticed it now had one less pill.
Once in the bathroom, you took a quick shower and ran a hot bath for her. When you returned to the room, she was half-awake, rubbing her eyes, her hair a mess.
"Hey...how are you feeling today?" you asked cautiously.
"It tingles a little when I move..." she yawned, then cleared her throat and continued, "It's like you're still inside me somehow."
"I'm sorry, I ran you a bath to make you feel better," you said calmly.
"I can't walk," she said, letting out a little laugh. "Last night I tried to get some water and I could barely take a step. Is that normal?"
"Meg, I'm so sorry, you should have woken me up. I would have brought you anything," you said apologetically, then added, "Yeah, I guess you'll feel better soon."
"It's okay, you were very sweet, thank you so much for that," she said, moving a little closer to stroke your hair. "And I felt amazing last night, so it was worth it."
"I'm glad you liked it."
"Dani is very lucky," Megan said with a mischievous smile.
"I think it's more the other way around."
///-///-///-///
Around midday, you were in your room studying for an upcoming exam when you heard the keys in the door. You assumed it was Manon and continued studying without paying attention, until you heard Daniela's voice call your name. You froze, a little nervous about what she might say. Was she upset? Had she regretted what she asked you to do with Megan?
Daniela entered your room with a serious expression.
"Hi..."
"You're so sweet!" Daniela said tenderly, her serious expression instantly changing as she leaned in to give you a quick kiss.
"What?" you asked, confused. "What's going on?"
Daniela sat down on your bed, taking your hands to guide you to her side.
"Megan called me a little while ago to thank me," she said, "and to remind me how lucky I am!"
"Aren't you angry or jealous?" you asked uncertainly.
"No, I'm a little disappointed because I didn't get to see how nice you were to her," Daniela admitted, then added thoughtfully, "Maybe I have some voyeuristic kink..."
"Dani, even though she liked it and I enjoyed it too..." you began, explaining what you had in mind.
"You came twice!"
"We did it twice, Dani, and you suggested her doing it without a condom!" you exclaimed defensively.
"That's because you feel better that way," Dani said, playfully running her hand quickly over your crotch. Then she became more serious and added, "And Megan said you were incredible, sweet, and attentive, and she felt safe the whole time. Amor, I really appreciate you doing this!"
"I'm glad you're happy, and she is too," you said, then your tone shifted to something more serious. "And I know you said it would only be this once..."
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice turning serious as her hand tightened around your groin.
"No, no, no, Dani," you said quickly, hoping she'd let go. "What I mean is, I don't want to do it with anyone else, only with you. When I woke up this morning, I knew right away you weren't with me. And yes, Megan is sweet, and being with her was so exciting and all, but I love you, and I think I'll love you forever..."
"Aww, cariño," she exclaimed, smiling tenderly. "Don't cry. I love you too. I love you so much, and I'll never ask you to do anything like that again."
"I'm not crying!" you replied, your voice breaking and your eyes watering as you looked down. "It's just that your hands..."
"Ohhh, sure," she said sarcastically, then added with a sensual look, "Do you want to show me how much you love me?"
tags : medical malpractice , power play , control kink , really messed up , toxic relationship , dependency , physically limited reader , g!p caitlyn , dubcon , choking , aftercare , manipulative tactics , squirting , protected piv
Caitlyn and her unimaginable obsession with you was… disturbing.
You were bed ridden after the accident. The accident that Caitlyn swore she wouldn’t let you recover from. She made sure whatever the doctors had to say was told to her and you had little to no clue of whatever they prescribed. Once you were discharged from the hospital and taken back home, Caitlyn carried you inside bridal style. She slowly lowered you onto the couch, laying you there.
“Look at me, baby,” Caitlyn cupped your face and smiled. “You’re safe.”
You smiled back, weak but there, “I know, because I’m with you.”
The way you said that with such dependence on her— no one could have thought that Caitlyn could get addicted to that. She sucked in a sharp breath before kissing you. You kissed her back— sloppy, your fingers threading through her silky hair as she trailed the kisses down to your jaw.
“I’m gonna go set the bedroom up,” she whispered.
You nodded, “okay…”
She fluffed the pillows, made sure the blankets were neat and set up everything that you could need while at bed rest on the bedside table. Once she was sure that everything was perfect, Caitlyn walked back to where you were, picking you up bridal style again.
“I’m gonna take care of you so well from now,” Caitlyn kissed your forehead and walked back to the bedroom with you.
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you leaned your head against her collarbone, not knowing this was the point in your life where you’d start losing all control.
Despite the days and days of medication and care you received, you didn’t seem to be getting well. You still couldn’t quite move your legs properly. Most of the time they felt too heavy to even lift up let alone walk. Caitlyn never judged you throughout it, she never acted as if she was grossed out by your condition. She was understanding…
“Well, baby, I need you to turn on your side. You need to take your medication.”
“What is that?” You asked, too loopy to have proper circumstantial sense.
“Don’t worry about it. You trust me, don’t you, doll?”
You nodded, turning to your side. Caitlyn was careful and methodical as she sunk the needle of the syringe in your flesh. Your eyes closed slowly as you felt your body getting injected with something. It made your legs feel heavier.
“Cait… What’s that?” You asked, your speech slightly slurred.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. Just trust me with this,” Caitlyn stroked your hair back, “you’re probably feeling so tired, aren’t you, baby? Why don’t you take some rest?”
You wanted to argue, but your eyes were already closing before you could fight your case.
“Cait… don’t… you’re… giving me weird… drugs.” You slurred before the world tilted and everything blacked out.
-------
When you woke up, Caitlyn was laid beside you. She was gently running one hand down your side, massaging the flesh as she did so.
“Cait… this isn’t right…”
“Why are you wet then?” Caitlyn asked, voice soft and gentle despite the gravity of the situation.
“I’m not wet.”
Caitlyn’s hand went past your panties waistband before you could even register it properly. Her fingers rubbed down your pussy lips, smearing your arousal all over your vulva as she teased you.
“What’s this mess for then, darling?” Caitlyn asked, “you’re not lying to me, are you?”
“I’m not— I— Cait, I’m scared,” you choked out.
“Aww, my sweet girl, come here,” Caitlyn cooed, bringing you in for a warm embrace.
Your tears soaked her shirt as you sobbed quietly in her arms. You couldn’t feel your legs. Your head felt heavy. You were no longer under the effect of the medication but it still had an effect on your lower body. You couldn’t move your legs if your life depended on it.
“Don’t you like it when I take over, babygirl?”
“W-what?” You looked up at her with your tear-soaked face.
“Don’t you like it when you don’t have to move even the slightest and all you need to worry about is looking pretty and sounding pretty for me?” Caitlyn stuck her hand down again, and slowly rubbed your clit in teasing circles, “think about it, princess, all you’d need to worry about is being my good little toy.”
“I— what if I can’t ever move again?”
“That’s alright, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, and I’ll take care of you. You like it when I do that, don’t you, baby? Don’t you want to relax and just let me do all the hard work, hmm?”
You swallowed hard. “Please… I want it inside.”
“That’s my girl.”
Caitlyn got up, and rummaged through the bedside table drawer for a packet of something familiar— a condom. She rolled the rubber over her already hardened and stiff cock before she positioned herself between your numb legs.
“Fuck me hard…” you whispered, your cheeks red with shame.
Why were you turned on by something so disturbing? Her bulbous cock head pressed against your tight opening as she pushed against it. You let out a shaky breath as you felt it slowly enter you. Caitlyn thrusted inside entirely, and bottomed out— her hands pinned yours down so you couldn’t squirm away.
“Cait… you’re big, oh… oh God…”
“Yeah, that’s okay, baby— fuck, you’re tight,” she drew in a sharp breath, and then exhaled slowly as she pulled out, “there, you’re loosening up…”
Caitlyn started slow and then she pounded in you with such speed that the bed beneath you both creaked loudly and obnoxiously. You tossed your head to the side, moaning loudly, eyebrows drawn tight together as your eyes snapped shut. Your pussy was clenching around Caitlyn so much that it was almost hard for her to thrust properly.
“That’s it— that’s my good girl. My good dependent girl,” Caitlyn slammed into your hole over and over again, enjoying the way your legs didn’t try to clamp shut.
She let go of your hands and grabbed your legs instead. They were heavy when you couldn’t voluntarily control them. Caitlyn slowly tugged both your legs over her shoulders, back of your knees resting on her shoulders as she pounded deeper in you. You gasped, clutching the sheets now.
“Cait! You’re deep! You’re so deep!”
You were sniffling, clit throbbing, drooling for more.
“Shh, quiet down, baby, let me take care of this needy hole,” Caitlyn said, her voice dangerously calm and steady for someone fucking at that velocity.
“Cait— Cait, please! I can’t, I’m— oh!”
Your head pressed into the pillows, hands fumbling with the blankets desperately before your pussy convulsed— an almost violent gush of squirt spraying out. Caitlyn herself was a little shocked at that, but then smirked. She held you down and pumped herself deeper for a bit longer until she finished herself in the condom.
Caitlyn pulled out slowly, licking her lips at the sight of your puffy pussy, “aww, did I mess my princess up too badly?”
“You’re mean,” you wiped at your face with your hands, “really mean…”
“Oh, my sweet girl…” Caitlyn kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry, baby, I got a little carried away.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” you murmured.
“Oh?”
“Shut up…”
Caitlyn chuckled and pulled back. She laid your legs down carefully and moved away from your body. You closed your eyes for a second, catching your breath. When you opened them again, Caitlyn was standing near your legs as she folded a sheet of wet wipe— she carefully wiped down your thighs and the residue of your cum, making sure that the uncomfortably sticky liquid was nowhere on you anymore.
Once she was done with that, she covered you in a fresh blanket and carried you (with the blanket) to set you on the single seater sofa across the bedroom, “stay right here for a bit, baby.”
You nodded, blanket covering the top of your head.
It didn’t take too long for Caitlyn to replace the sheets and tuck you back in bed, “don’t fall asleep just yet, love. I’ve gotta get you hydrated.”
You watched her pour you a glass of water, “thanks,” you mumbled as you took it.
“Of course.” Caitlyn smiled— and she smiled because she knew that the rest of the years of your life would go exactly like this.
Warnings: 18+ characters, pining, milf!lover reader, cheating, age gap, gn reader, flirting, alcohol consumption, one-sided jealousy, secret relationship, pussy eating, hair pulling, doggy style, praising, overstimulation, gn reader but has a penis, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight possessive tendencies, guilt cheating
Pairings: Cassandra Kiramman x You
Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)
Would it really be a crime for a married woman to sedate the yearn she couldn’t find in her marriage?
The ballroom gleamed in shimmering golds and ivories, a sea of delicate crystal chandeliers casting soft, mesmerizing light across the polished marble floors. The air was thick with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured exchanges of politeness, and the subtle notes of a string quartet playing in the background. The gathering was sophisticated, an event that catered to the highest echelons of society, each guest dressed to the nines in the finest fabrics money could buy.
Cassandra Kiramman, standing among them, was no exception. Her gown, a stunning creation of deep sapphire blue silk, flowed around her form like liquid. It hugged her curves, emphasizing her regal stature, while the plunging neckline was tastefully designed, offering just enough allure without being too revealing. A delicate diamond necklace sat at her throat, catching the light with every slight tilt of her head. Her dark hair, meticulously styled in soft waves, framed her face, but even then, her piercing eyes remained the focus of her allure.
Her poise was perfect, as expected. A queen amongst lesser mortals, her presence in the room was undeniable. She moved with effortless grace, exchanging pleasantries with various guests—politicians, businessmen, dignitaries—but all the while, her attention remained elsewhere, focused on a single figure across the room.
You.
You were the kind of person who demanded attention without ever asking for it. Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, the fabric hugging your shoulders and tapering down to your waist in a way that screamed both power and subtlety, you were the epitome of charisma. Your hair complemented your face and the dangerous glint in your eyes. Every word you spoke, every gesture you made, seemed to draw the crowd in like moths to a flame. You were charming, disarming, and undeniably magnetic, the kind of person people wanted to be around, to impress.
The host, a well-known socialite with an inflated sense of self-importance, hovered around you with a rapt attention, practically clinging to your every word. She laughed too loudly at your jokes, her hand lingering too long on your arm as though she were the only one to understand the subtle layers of your charm. Cassandra clenched her jaw as she watched, though she would never let it show. Jealousy was an emotion she seldom allowed herself to indulge in, but with you, it was unavoidable. The way the host leaned in just a little too close, her eyes wide and eager—Cassandra wanted to push you away, to remind her that she was nothing more than a passing distraction. But she held her tongue.
Her fingers gripped her glass tighter, the cold crystal digging into her palm. Her gaze followed you across the room, her breath slowing, her pulse quickening. You stood there like a god amongst men, your effortless charm and quiet confidence commanding the space around you. Every person you engaged with melted into the background, as if they were mere pawns in a game you had already won. The host was a reflection of your influence—captivated, helpless to the magnetism of your presence.
And that was when you caught her.
Your eyes met hers across the ballroom, an instant connection in the sea of faces. It was subtle at first, a glance that could have been mistaken for anything—just a momentary flicker of acknowledgment. But Cassandra knew. She knew you had seen her. And in that fleeting instant, her breath hitched. She could feel the weight of your gaze on her, your eyes locking with hers like a magnetic pull she couldn’t escape.
The room around her seemed to dissolve, the laughter, the chatter, the music—all fading into a muffled hum as the two of them became the center of their world. You had that look in your eyes, the one she knew all too well: the knowing, smirking glance that suggested you were fully aware of her silent watching, her longing, her desperate need to pull you closer.
And then, as though toying with her, you flashed that smile—a slow, deliberate curve of your lips that held a thousand unspoken promises. It was the kind of smile that made her pulse race and her breath catch in her throat. It wasn’t just charming; it was dangerous, seductive, like a whispered secret shared between only the two of them.
The host babbled on beside you, oblivious to the silent exchange unfolding, but Cassandra’s world had narrowed to a single point. The soft hum of the ballroom returned, but she was no longer fully present. The others, the endless flow of conversation and pleasantries, were nothing but background noise. Only you existed in this moment, and you knew it.
Her heart drummed in her chest as she tried to steady herself, but it was impossible. The jealousy was a searing heat, coiling in her gut, but there was something deeper, something far more potent in her response to you—desire. A yearning so intense it burned through every layer of composure she had carefully crafted over the years. You were her secret, her forbidden indulgence, the one thing in her life that made her feel alive in a way nothing else could.
And then, as though to seal her fate, you did it again. Your eyes lingered just a moment longer, a slight nod of acknowledgment to your secret connection, a silent promise that no one else could understand. Cassandra’s breath faltered. She could almost hear the playful teasing in your smirk, the way you knew she would react. How you would always be the one to keep her on the edge, always the one to control the ebb and flow of your unspoken affair.
Cassandra’s grip on her glass tightened until her knuckles turned white, but she didn’t care. Not anymore. The night would pass like all the others—filled with empty conversations and polite interactions—but this time, it would end with you. It always did.
As you turned your attention back to the host, Cassandra fought to regain her composure, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the rest of the world no longer mattered. The event, the guests, the endless sea of superficiality—it was all a blur compared to the dark promise in your eyes. She would play her part, as she always did, but she knew the night would end with the two of them—just the two of them—hidden away from prying eyes, lost in the dangerous thrill of their forbidden relationship.
Eventually, you excused yourself from the conversation you’d been having and began weaving through the crowd toward her, your movements as smooth and deliberate as a predator closing in on its prey. Cassandra’s heart thudded in her chest, but she remained perfectly still, her exterior calm and unshaken.
When you reached her, you tilted your head, offering a smile that was equal parts charm and mischief.
“Madam Kiramman,” you said smoothly, your voice low and rich, “I couldn’t help but notice your… captivating presence this evening.”
Cassandra arched a brow, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how deeply your words affected her. “Is that so?” she replied, her tone cool and measured. “I hadn’t realized I was the topic of your amusement.”
Your smile widened, and there it was again—that damned glint in your eyes. “Oh, you’re far more interesting than you let on,” you said, stepping just a fraction closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “And far more interesting than anyone else in this room.”
Cassandra felt her breath catch again, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she allowed a small, enigmatic smile to curve her lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said softly, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her.
You chuckled, the sound low and intimate, sending a shiver down her spine. “Who said I was trying to get anywhere?” you replied, holding her gaze as if the rest of the world had fallen away. “Maybe I just wanted to get closer to you.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her lips remained sealed. She knew you were playing a game—one she’d grown accustomed to over the years. This was a mood she would feign until you pushed her, until you escalated the teasing to the point where she couldn’t help but respond. Cassandra wasn’t one to be easily coaxed, but with you, it was always different. She had always been susceptible to your games, to your charm. You had a way of breaking down her defenses, and it both enraged, aroused, and thrilled her in equal measure.
She huffed, rolling her eyes, looking away for a moment. “Always the entertainer,” she remarked, her words laced with a subtle annoyance. She didn’t like how easily you had shifted the attention to her.
You leaned closer, deliberately, your breath warm against her ear as you spoke, your voice low and almost intimate. “I could say the same thing about you, Cassandra. Always pretending not to want what you can’t have.”
Her breath caught in her throat. The words, the way you said them, sent a shiver through her. She turned her head to look at you again, her expression now a careful mask of indifference. “You’re delusional if you think I’m playing your games.” But her voice was softer now, the edge of frustration bleeding into something else—something raw, something almost desperate.
You could see it—the way her eyes flickered with a mixture of annoyance and desire. It was always the same. She’d put up the front, pretending to be unaffected, but you both knew the truth. It was a dance she couldn’t resist, one she always played until the very end.
You moved just a little closer, your presence overwhelming, intoxicating. The space between you seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension. “I don’t think it’s me who’s delusional, Cassandra,” you murmured, your gaze never leaving hers, your words deliberately slow, teasing. “You think I don’t see it? That I can’t feel the way you want to touch me? The way your body responds when I’m near? It’s written all over you.”
She stiffened, her breath hitching at your boldness. Every word you spoke seemed to pierce her, each one a calculated strike designed to bring her to the edge. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, the subtle tightening of her chest, the way her pulse quickened against her will.
“I don’t know what you think you’re implying,” she said, her voice strained as she tried to hold onto the shreds of her composure, but you could hear the falter in her tone.
You smirked again, and this time, you didn’t hold back. Your hand, almost absentmindedly, brushed against the small of her back, a fleeting touch that was deliberate enough to make her heart race. “I think you know exactly what I’m implying. You’ve been playing at being the picture of elegance, the perfect host, the model of restraint. But it’s just that—a game. And we both know you don’t like losing.”
Her eyes flashed with a warning, but the effect of your words had already sunk in. The heat in her chest spread lower now, coiling in her stomach. She hated how you saw through her, how you always had this uncanny ability to break through the layers she built around herself.
“Don’t,” she warned quietly, though there was no force behind it. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was still a clear command.
But you only leaned closer, now your lips brushing against her ear. “You’re never going to tell me no, Cassandra. Not when I’m this close. Not when you want me just as much as I want you. You know this… as much as you try to fight it.”
The words hung in the air, thick with the electricity between them, heavy with the desire neither of them was willing to fully acknowledge. Her chest tightened, and though she hated the way her body betrayed her, she couldn’t deny it. She wanted you. More than she cared to admit.
Her breathing was shallow now, her thoughts clouded. She felt the pull of you, the undeniable tension that had always existed between the two of them. There was no denying it anymore. She could try to play her part, to keep up the pretense of disinterest, but you had stripped that away with just a few words.
The moment hung between them, each second stretched thin as Cassandra fought to keep her composure. But you knew—you knew—that her walls were crumbling, and it was only a matter of time before she surrendered to the very thing she’d tried so hard to deny.
You leaned back slightly, your lips curling into that infuriatingly confident smirk. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” you said softly, your voice laced with both promise and challenge.
The evening had passed in a blur of fake smiles and perfunctory conversations, but nothing had mattered. Not the event, not the guests, not the endless stream of handshakes and pleasantries. All that lingered in Cassandra’s mind was the weight of the words you’d left her with, the pulse of desire that had only grown more insistent as the night wore on.
She had barely made it back to her place before the familiar pull of temptation drew her in once more. She couldn’t ignore it anymore—not the way her body responded to you, the way her mind always returned to those heated exchanges, those words, that smirk. The game was never over, and she knew, deep down, that she would lose every time.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she approached your door, the familiar tension coiling in her stomach. Her fingers moved to the handle, steady but with the faintest tremor—an indication of just how much you had gotten under her skin. When the door swung open, there was no fanfare, no grand display—just you, waiting in the shadows, the same smirk on your lips, that same unreadable look in your eyes.
You didn’t need to ask. You never did. She walked in without hesitation, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warm glow casting long shadows on the walls. The room was quiet, intimate—exactly as it always was when they met. The bed was already made, the sheets a soft, inviting contrast to the dark ambiance of the room.
You shut the door behind her, your movements languid, deliberate, but there was no rush. Neither of them had any need for pretense now. Not here. Not in the place that had become theirs.
Cassandra moved deeper into the room, her gaze never leaving you. She was still wearing the evening dress, the sapphire fabric clinging to her form like a second skin. She looked like she belonged in a different world—one of opulence, of control. But here, in this dimly lit space, that world fell away, leaving only the two of them and the unspoken tension that had been building all evening.
Without a word, you gestured toward the bed, your eyes dark and heavy with something more than mere desire. It was an invitation—one she had accepted countless times before. Cassandra didn’t need to be asked twice. She moved toward the bed with the grace of a queen, her fingers unzipping the back of her dress slowly, deliberately. Every movement, every shift of her body, was calculated, as though she were stripping away her control piece by piece.
She turned to face you once more, her eyes meeting yours. The look in her eyes was a mix of defiance and need—an undeniable hunger that had taken root in her from the moment she’d crossed your threshold.
You didn’t speak at first, merely watching her, letting the silence stretch between you, thick with unspoken promises. There was no rush, no need for more words. The game had been set, and now it was just a matter of who would make the first move.
When she finally stepped out of the dress, the cool air brushed against her skin, but it was the heat between them that made her heart race. Her body, so carefully composed and controlled in the outside world, was now exposed in more ways than one. But with you, there was no judgment. Only the weight of desire and the pull of inevitability.
You took a step closer, your eyes tracing the curve of her body, the way the firelight danced off her skin. “You really thought you could keep resisting, didn’t you?” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.
Cassandra’s lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile, but it was tinged with something darker—something that told you she was past the point of pretense. “I wasn’t resisting,” she replied softly, her voice thick with a mix of frustration and longing. “I just didn’t want to make it this easy for you.”
You chuckled, a low sound that sent a ripple of anticipation through her. “You never make it easy. But it’s fun to watch you try.”
She moved closer now, her breath mingling with yours, and you let her. You always let her take the first step, always let her think she had the upper hand, but you both knew it was an illusion. The power between you was never equal—it never could be. You had her wrapped around your finger, even if she refused to admit it.
When she finally reached you, her hands moved with purpose, the edges of her fingers grazing the sharp lines of your jaw before trailing down to your collar. Her touch was electric, a silent promise of what was to come. “You never learn,” she said, her words like a challenge, but you knew better. You always knew how to make her lose herself in the moment.
With fluid motion, you unbuttoned your shirt, the fabric falling away from your chest, revealing the strength and the muscle beneath. But it was the look in your eyes that held her—the raw hunger, the darkness that mirrored her own.
Without a word, you pulled her toward you, your lips crashing into hers, the kiss deep and possessive. The fire crackled louder now, its flames dancing with the same intensity that burned between you both. Everything else—the world outside, the rules you both pretended to follow—faded into nothing. There was only the heat of the moment, the undeniable force of attraction that had brought you here again.
A paradise of punishment.
That’s what it felt like as you guide Cassandra back to the bed, your mouths never separating even as you’ve got her pinned underneath you. Her tongue was coaxing itself into the hot, addicting cavity of your mouth that could be doing other things to her body, such as alleviating the mounting tension between her thighs.
You push Cassandra back onto the bed, admiring the way her hair fans out across the white pillow, a stark contrast to her pale skin. She watches you with lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, anticipation heavy in the air between you.
You trail your fingertips up the inside of her thigh, the skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. Cassandra's legs part for you, eagerly inviting your touch higher. As you reach the junction between her legs, you can see a damp spot blooming on her panties, evidence of her desire.
You hook your fingers in the waistband, tugging the lacy fabric down her legs and off, leaving her bare before you. You take a moment to admire the sight of her, the delicate folds of her pussy glistening with arousal, a temptation you can't resist.
With a low growl of appreciation, you drop your head between her thighs, your lips brushing against her slick flesh. Cassandra bucks at the contact, a gasp torn from her throat as your tongue delves into her heat. You lap at her like a starved beast, lapping up her wetness as if it's the finest ambrosia.
Cassandra's hands fly to your hair, her fingers tangling in the strands, holding you closer. You let her guide you, nuzzling into her core as you seek out the small bundle of nerves at the top of her clit. You circle it with the tip of your tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive her wild with sensation.
"Oh gods, yes," Cassandra gasps, her head falling back against the pillows, her hips rocking against your face. "Don't stop, please..."
As if you could, even if she asked.
Your mouth and tongue work in tandem to push Cassandra closer to the edge. You lap at her, your tongue delving deep to gather her sweetness, only to pull back when you feel her tensing, her release just out of reach.
You ease two fingers into her slick pussy, curling them to stroke along her inner walls, seeking out that special spot that will make her see stars. You can feel her fluttering around your digits, her body desperate for more friction.
But still, you deny her, keeping your touch maddeningly light and teasing. Cassandra's frustrated whimpers and needy moans fill the room, music to your ears. She's so close, you can feel it in the way she's clenching around your fingers, the way her thighs are trembling with the effort of holding herself back.
"Please, I can't...I need to...please let me cum,"
At her desperate pleas, you pull your fingers from her, admiring the way her walls clench around nothing, trying to pull you back in. You can't help but smirk, savoring the way she looks, spread out and desperate before you, begging for release.
You raise your hand, letting it hover over her sex, your palm just brushing against her sensitive flesh. Cassandra's hips buck, trying to chase the contact, but you deny her, maintaining the tantalizing distance between your skin and hers.
"Do you want to cum, Cassandra?" you ask, your voice low and teasing. You punctuate your question with a light tap to her clit, the shock of sensation making her hips jerk off the bed. But before she can even form a response, you've moved on, letting your palm graze along her clit in a mockery of what she really wants.
You keep up the teasing touches, each pass of your hand sending sparks of denied pleasure racing through Cassandra's system. She's writhing now, her hands fisting in the sheets as she struggles to maintain control. Each time her hips twitch towards you, seeking more of your touch, you pull away, leaving her aching and empty. It's a delicious form of torture, one that has Cassandra babbling and begging, her words tumbling out in an incoherent rush.
You lean down, nipping at her inner thigh, your teeth scraping against her delicate skin. You can taste the salt of her sweat, the musk of her arousal. It's intoxicating and addictive, and you can't get enough.
But still, you hold back, determined to push her to her limits and beyond. Because that's what she needs, what she craves. To be taken apart and put back together again, remade in your image.
You dip your head, your tongue delving deep into her soaked folds, lapping at her like a starved beast. Your fingers join in the fray, pumping in and out of her slick channel in a relentless rhythm. Cassandra's world narrows down to the feel of your mouth and fingers, the pleasure cresting higher and higher with each flick of your tongue, each curl of your fingers. She's panting now, her chest heaving, her nails digging into your scalp, holding you in place as you feast on her.
You can feel her clamping down around your fingers, her walls fluttering and pulsing as her climax approaches. She's so close, teetering on the precipice, her thighs trembling, her breaths coming in sharp, short gasps. You double your efforts, sucking hard on her clit, fingering her roughly, determined to push her over the edge.
"That's it, Cassandra, let go," you encourage, your words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. "Cum for me, show me how much you love my tongue on your sweet cunt." Your dirty talk is the final push she needs. With a hoarse shout of your name, Cassandra comes undone, her release slamming into her like a runaway train. Her back bows off the bed, her body going rigid as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over her. You don't let up, keeping your fingers pumping into her, your mouth latched onto her clit as you ride out her orgasm with her.
You can taste her release flooding your mouth, the tangy-sweet musk coating your tongue. It's addictive, and you find yourself greedily lapping up every drop, not wanting to waste a single precious essence. You can feel Cassandra twitching and shuddering beneath you, her body overwhelmed with sensation.
You take a moment to admire the blissed-out expression on Cassandra's face as she comes down from her high, her hair damp and tangled against her temples, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. She's beautiful like this, thoroughly ravished and sated, and you feel a swell of usual pride at being the cause of her pleasure.
Slowly, tenderly, you press soft kisses along her inner thighs, your lips trailing up her body like a map of your desire. You pay homage to each peak and valley of her form, from the sharp jut of her hipbones, to the soft swell of her belly, to the gentle slope of her breasts. Cassandra shivers beneath your ministrations, her skin pebbling with goosebumps in the wake of your lips.
You finally reach her mouth, hovering over her with a smug grin.
"You did so well, Cassandra," you murmur against her lips, your voice low and approving. "So perfect, taking everything I gave you and begging for more." You trail your fingers down her side, marveling at the way her muscles twitch and flex beneath your touch, responsive and wanting. You can feel her arching into you, her body seeking contact, skin on skin friction.
Your mouth slants over hers, capturing her lips in a deep, languid kiss. You sip at her bottom lip, your tongue darting out to trace the seam of her mouth. Cassandra yields immediately, her lips parting on a gasp that you quickly plunder with your tongue. You kiss her deeply, thoroughly, pouring all of your praise and adoration into the press of your lips against hers.
When you finally break away, Cassandra is breathless, her pupils blown wide in her flushed face.
“Turn over for me,” you muttered, gently taking her arm and guiding her to roll over onto her hands and knees, putting her ass on display for you.
You take a moment to admire the view, your eyes roving over the gentle curve of her back, the swell of her ass presented invitingly for your touch. You can see your handprints blooming across her skin, reminders of your claim over her, your mark of possession.
Slowly, almost gently, you bring your hand down on one upturned cheek, the sharp slap ringing out in the charged air of the room. Cassandra gasps, her hips jerking forward at the sudden sting. But you don't give her time to recover, instead laying down a steady rhythm of strikes, each blow sending her back arching higher, her nails scrabbling for purchase against the sheets.
By the time you're done, Cassandra is a wreck, her ass red and glowing beneath your touch, her thighs quaking with the effort of holding herself up.
You position yourself behind her, one hand on the small of her back, the other guiding your hard shaft to her entrance. With a deep breath, you sink into her welcoming heat, groaning at the way her walls stretch and mold around you. You take her slowly, savoring the feel of her silken passage enveloping you, inch by exquisite inch.
When you finally bottom out, you still for a moment, burying your face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Fuck, Cassandra, you feel incredible," you rasp, your voice rough with pleasure. "So good, so perfect."
To drive home your point, you punctuate your words with a slow, deep roll of your hips. Cassandra moans, her back bowing, pushing her ass more fully against your lap.
"Please," she whimpers, "More. I need more."
You begin to move, your thrusts deep and sure, each stroke reaching that sweet spot deep within her that makes her see stars. Your hand drifts between her legs, your fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing in firm, steady circles. Cassandra's cries of pleasure mingle with the slick sounds of your joining, the noises obscene and erotic in the quiet of the room.
You nip and kiss along the elegant line of her neck and shoulder, worshipping the skin with lips and teeth. "That's it, take what you need," you urge, your voice a low, seductive purr. "Take my cock, let me feel you come apart." Each roll of your hips brings you deeper into her welcoming heat, your dick grinding deliciously against her front wall.
Your pace remains languid, each smooth thrust savored, prolonging the blissful glide of your dick in and out of her pussy. You can feel every inch of her fluttering channel, the velvety walls gripping you like a silk glove, as if trying to keep you deep inside for all of eternity.
There is no rush, no urgency in your movements, only the primal need to experience this connection as fully as possible. You are drunk on the feel of her, the scent of her skin, the taste of her on your tongue. This moment of intimacy is all that exists in your world, Cassandra beneath you, surrounding you, completing you in a way you never knew possible.
Without warning, you change the pace, your hips snapping forward to bury yourself to the hilt in one hard thrust. Cassandra's sharp cry of surprise quickly gives way to a low moan as you set a brutal rhythm, your dick pounding into her willing flesh with bruising force. Each slam of your hips against her rear sends ripples through the supple globes, the obscene sight only spurring you on.
You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, the pleasure cresting with each pass of your cock along her front wall. You reach around, your fingers delving between her legs to find her aching clit. You pinch the swollen bud roughly, sending sparks of pain and pleasure shooting through her. Cassandra thrashes beneath you, her back arching, her fingers clawing at the sheets. She's babbling now, a constant stream of moans and pleas falling from her lips.
You fist your hand in her hair, wrenching her head back as you continue your relentless assault on her body. The change in position allows you to sink even deeper into her welcoming heat if that were even possible. Cassandra's moans turn to wails, her throat hoarse from the force of her cries.
You can feel your release rushing toward you like a runaway train, your core drawing up tight inside your body. You're close, so close, and you know it won't be long before Cassandra falls over the edge with you. You can feel her starting to spasm around you, her walls fluttering wildly as her orgasm takes hold.
With a final, vicious twist of your fingers on her clit, you send her hurtling into bliss. Her back bows, her body going rigid as ecstasy consumes her. Her cunt clamps down on you like a vice, trying to wring your own release from your body with its greedy grip.
"That’s it, that's it, let go," you groan, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your own release. You pound into her mercilessly, each thrust aimed at pushing her further into the abyss of ecstasy. "Cum for me, Cassandra. I want to feel you coming undone on my cock."
As if your words are a direct order, Cassandra's orgasm crashes into her again, her walls spasming wildly around your pistoning cock. You can feel the flood of her release gushing out to coat your thighs, the proof of her pleasure dripping down to pool on the sheets below. But you don't stop, don't let up, knowing she has more to give. You set a punishing pace, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside her that makes her scream. Your grip on her hips is bruising, holding her in place as you use her willing body for your own gratification.
You slam into Cassandra with bruising force, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. You're losing yourself to the base instincts of pleasure, chasing only the feel of her slick, tight walls fluttering around your throbbing dick. You push her further into the mattress, the pillows scattering across the floor in your wake.
Cassandra's moans are getting higher, more desperate, her body shaking under the onslaught of sensation. "I can't- I can't take it!" She sobs, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the sweat-slick sheets. But you're beyond hearing, focused only on driving her higher, pushing her toward another shattering climax.
You can feel your own release building at the base of your spine, your balls drawing up tight against your body. You're so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
With a last, vicious thrust, you hit that spot inside her that sends her careening over the edge. Cassandra's back arches, her body going rigid as her orgasm crashes into her with the force of a tsunami. Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, the rhythmic pulsing milking your cock as she squirts around you, her release gushing out to coat your thighs and pool on the sheets below.
The sensation is too much, pushing you past the point of no return. With a hoarse shout, you spill yourself deep inside her, your seed jetting into her waiting womb in thick, copious ropes. You collapse onto her, your spent cock pulsing inside her fluttering channel as you both float down from the dizzying heights of pleasure.
You flip you both onto your sides, pulling Cassandra flush against your chest, your cock still nestled snugly inside her. You can feel your combined releases slowly starting to seep from her, trickling down her thighs to make a sticky mess of the sheets. The sensation makes your spent cock give an interested twitch.
You begin to move slowly, languidly, each roll of your hips sinking you back into her velvety heat. Your hand roams her curves, tracing patterns on her hip, her thigh, exploring every dip and swell of her body. "You're perfect, you know that?" you murmur against her temple, your words a rough purr in the quiet of the room.
Your praise, combined with the gentle glide of your cock along her hypersensitive walls, has Cassandra shivering and gasping. She's overstimulated, and sensitive, but she can't bring herself to tell you to stop.
You take your time, drawing out each delicious slide of your shaft in and out of her welcoming heat. This isn't about the chase, the frantic race to the finish. This is about savoring, about imprinting every moment into your memory so you never forget the perfection of her body against yours.
You press open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder, tasting the salt of her skin, breathing in the unique scent that is uniquely Cassandra. Your words of praise are punctuated with the soft, wet sounds of your coupling, the obscene noises making your spent cock give a valiant twitch of interest. "So good for me," you groan, your hand slipping down to cup her breast, to tease the tight bud of her nipple.
“Look at me,” you reach out, your fingers gently tilting her chin up to look at you. Your eyes meet, gazes locking in an intimate dance. You lean forward, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth, the gentle touch at odds with your still-pumping hips. Cassandra's eyelids flutter closed, her breathing hitching as she melts into you, into the cocoon of warmth and security you spin around her.
You can feel yourself starting to coax another orgasm from you again but you don't rush, don't seek to increase your pace. You simply roll your hips in languorous figure-eights, grinding against that sensitive spot inside her that makes her toes curl and her mouth fall open on silent gasps. You're making love to her, in the purest, most basic sense. Body and soul, mind and heart, all intertwined in this timeless dance of passion.
You both reach the pinnacle of bliss simultaneously, your releases washing over you like tidal waves. Cassandra's walls clench around your dick, milking you for all you're worth as spurt after spurt of your seed pumps into her welcoming pussy. You cling to her, anchoring yourself against the overwhelming pleasure with desperate fingers digging into her hips.
Through the haze of your own ecstasy, you manage to murmur words of praise, your voice hoarse but tender. "That's it, cum for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you. You're so beautiful like this."
Despite the intensity of your shared climax, you keep your pace steady, continuing to slowly roll your hips in smooth glides as you ride out the aftershocks. You hold her close, your heart pounding against your ribs in tandem with hers as you both gasp for breath in the aftermath of your mutual rapture.
You can feel your softening dick slipping from her body, a rush of your combined fluids gushing out to mingle with the damp sheets. The evidence of your coupling is everywhere, from the red marks on her skin to the slight soreness in her well-used muscles. But in that moment, as you both cling to each other, basking in the warm afterglow of your passion, none of that matters. All that exists is the two of you, together in perfect harmony. You press a soft kiss to her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair.
"You okay?" you ask softly, your tone more question than statement. Cassandra hums in response, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on your chest.
"Mmhm. That was...intense." You can hear the smile in her voice, the contentment. It makes your heart swell, a fierce, possessive pride flooding your veins. Satisfied and sated.
The only sound is the soft rise and fall of your chests as you both struggle to catch your breath. The moment is peaceful, content, two souls intertwined in the aftermath of passion. But like all good things, the tranquility can't last forever.
A shadow passes over Cassandra's face, her eyes growing distant. "We can't do this again," she says, her voice flat and emotionless. It's an old refrain, one you've heard countless times before. And like all the times before, you know it's a lie. A lie she tells herself to protect her heart, to ward off the vulnerability of truly opening up to someone else.
You don’t call her on it, simply pull her closer, tucking her head under your chin and stroking her hair. "Mmhm," you respond, your tone placating. "Of course, we won't."
"I'm serious, we can't do this again." The words are hollow, devoid of conviction. "I have a little girl, a husband—a family at home. I shouldn't be here, with you." Cassandra's voice wavers, her resolve crumbling under the weight of your assured gaze.
"Come on now, don't start that again." You nuzzle the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. The scent of home. "You belong here, with me. It's where you were always meant to be." She knows you're right. No matter how much she might want to believe her own protestations, she always finds her way back to you in the end.
Your words are soft, but there's an undercurrent of steel beneath the tenderness. You know you have her, that it's only a matter of time before she's crawling back into your bed, into your arms.
Cassandra pulls away, disentangling herself from your embrace with a soft wince. She rises from the bed, gathering her discarded clothes and pulling them on with mechanical movements, as if she's done this a thousand times before. You can see the guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders, the shame twisting her features into an ugly mask. "I'm sorry," she whispers, the words choked and tight. "I'm so sorry. What I'm doing...it's not right. I have to go back."
Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she blinks them back, refusing to let them fall. You watch her, your expression impassive, knowing it's all just talk, that she'll be back in your bed sooner rather than later. But you let her go through the motions, for now.
You allow her little performance, knowing it's just a phase. She'll be back, as she always is. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, no matter how much she might try to resist. You witness her silent struggle, the inner turmoil written plainly on her face as she warily eyes the door. Part of you wants to pull her back, to wrap her up in your arms and never let go. But you know that's not the way to win this game. No, you need to play the long game, wait for her to come to you of her own accord.
It's a test, in a way. To see if she can resist the temptation you represent, if her morals are stronger than her lust for you. But you're not concerned. You've done this dance before, and you know it's only a matter of time before she's back in your bed, begging for your touch.
genre(s) - one-shot, lesbian erotica, established relationship, age gap
description - sevika has many addictions, she’s not ashamed of the high they give her. it’s why she loves them so much, you being a part of her many addictions. all she yearns for is to please you to the point of oblivion.
warning(s) - profanity, slight pussy eating, light nipple/breast play, praise kink, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika has a dick in this, creampie, clit stimulation, sevika is forty-one while reader is twenty-three, missionary, dumbification, pet names (baby, good girl), overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, dirty talk(?). 18+ only, minors & men dni.
word count - 2.8k
song - speechless by beyoncé.
rules | arcane m.list | taglist
SHE’S SHAMELESSLY DRUNK ON you, Sevika couldn’t keep her hands off you if she tried. Not that you both wanted to change that, you’re conditioned to understanding that when she wants to hold you, no matter the circumstance, she’ll find a way. You comfort her in ways that even drinking and gambling cannot.
All because of your plush skin, and wide thighs that feel so good pressed against her cheeks, she’s so fucking hungry.
Tonight was no different, you’re lying comfortably on your shared bed, your night gown pulled up to your stomach, showing off your stretch marks and laced panties. The back of your head cradled by your pillow, pressed on the headboard as you watched TV. You patiently wait for Sevika; the shower finally turns off, and you can hear the soft hums that leave her mouth, considering the TV volume is low.
Sevika came home tired and aggravated tonight, trying her best to keep it together. Yet, how could she, the entire week you teased her, pressing your asscheeks against her crotch, leaning down and shaking them slightly as you picked something up slowly.
Even as far as sending her pictures of you only in your towel, your breasts are so close to spilling out of it. The empty threats she would make after, it was all comical, really; at least for you.
After many minutes had passed, Sevika came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her waist, the print of her dick large and thick pressed against it while her breasts were exposed. Dark brown nipples hard with droplets of water running down to her neck and biceps.
Scars covered her body, some, mixing well with her stretch marks that ran down to her breasts. Her hair was still damp, resting against her forehead while her facial expression was full of sternness as she stared at you.
Your heart is beating faster from the sight of her, pressing a hand against your chest. Sevika glances around the room, moving to her side of the bed, picking up her robotic arm, and placing it on. “You okay?” You mutter, her silence intimated you. Not that Sevika needed to speak much, but it was different tonight.
The scent of lavender soap and the sounds of her putting lotion on made your stomach turn. She pauses, turning her head to you, a wolfy smirk appearing.
“M’Fine, would you be okay with putting some lotion on my back for me?” Her voice rasps, making your pussy twitch a little, it was embarrassing how easily you got turned on from her.
Not to her, that’s all she wants, desperately. You nod, now on your knees and moving to her side of the bed. Now, sitting on your legs, you watch her apply lotion to your hands. “Go ahead.” Sevika commands, you nod again, letting out a sigh. Pressing your hands on her back, you feel her flex it for you, seeing the muscles show a bit more.
Your hands rub the lotion in, watching as her skin breaks out in goosebumps, and so does yours. You continue to move slowly, your hand running down the middle of her back to her waist. “Go faster for me baby.” She turns her head to the left, her jawline visible.
Your lips gape open, letting out a shaken sigh. Listening, your hands move faster over her back, lotioning and massaging her shoulders. Sevika continues to flex for you, keeping a smirk on her face. She wanted you to remember that no matter what you do, she always comes on top, somehow, someway.
Her lips open, licking her bottom lip before speaking. “Long day, but fuck your pics just had to make it longer for me.” She complains, you listen diligently, pausing your massage.
Your hands raise a bit, seeing her turn around, now facing you. Crossing her arms, you both sigh, staring at each other.
Her grey eyes flicker down to your nightgown: shaking her head. “Got the prettiest tits I've ever seen and you want to hide them from me? Better yet, send me pictures in your towel and not even a fucking video to go with it?” She sucks her teeth, shaking her head again.
You blink a couple of times, resting your hands on your lap. “I’m s-” she cuts you off with a laugh, raising a brow. “Don’t piss me off tonight with a sorry, please.” You lick your lips and nod.
Sevika presses a hand on your cheek, her thumb rubbing it slowly. Your eyes stare up at her lips before looking into her eyes. “Missed you too much today, a lot on my mind, but you still find a way to invade that shit.” Moving her hand to your waist, she pulls you up with quickness.
Your eyes widen, placing your hands over her chest as her nipples brush against your clothed ones.
Leaning in closer, her nose brushes yours, tilting her head a little. She ghosts her plump lips against yours, watching you yearn for them. Your breath hitches, swallowing hard. Closing your eyes, your hands move to her cheeks, pulling yourself to her. Smushing your lips against hers, Sevika grips you tighter, widening her mouth a little, feeling your tongue slip in.
Twirling her tongue with yours, she picks you up, putting you on your back, your legs open for her to nestle comfortably between them.
Her mechanical hand rests on the bed to keep her up. Her other hand hikes your nightgown up, feeling you squirm a little as she touches a sensitive part of your hip. Moving her fingers back over to it, she hooks her index finger on your panties, shifting them down a little.
Sevika’s lips move down to your neck, scattering wet kisses all over. Whimpering, you place your hand on her shoulder, putting pressure.
She smirks against your neck, leaving one final kiss before looking down at you. “Can’t show my girlfriend how much I miss her?” She laughs, you gulp, looking down at her boobs now. She moves her hand back to your face, nudging your chin up. “Come on, so it’s okay for you to tease me but I can’t make a joke out of it, hm?” She murmurs, pressing another kiss against your lips.
“You can.” You let out, she nods, “I know.” She whispers back before scooting her head down to your chest, leaving more kisses until she reaches your stomach.
Your stomach twists more, waiting impatiently for her to do something. Sevika, move your nightgown all the way up to the underside of your boobs. Sucking the skin, her eyes never leaving yours. Her kisses are wet and slow, just for you.
Getting off the bed now, your brows crease, confused about why she stopped. Sevika takes off the towel, tossing it somewhere. Her dick springs up, a nice shade of brown with pre-cum spilling a bit.
You hiccup a little, holding in a smile. This is what you wanted, happily succeeding. Sevika strokes her dick in front of you, whimpers leaving her mouth as her face contorts. Her body runs hot as yours does too.
“Take your panties off for me, please.” She rasps, your heart jumps from her words but listen carefully. Unhurriedly taking them off, her eyes darken at the sight of your pussy, slick and attached to your panties that break, slipping down to the bedsheets.
Biting her lip, she gets on her knees for you, hooking her hands under your thighs and yanking you closer. Pressing a kiss on your clit, she sees you twitch and hears a whine leave your lips. Sevika moves her thumb to your clit, rubbing it slowly, enjoying the sight of you squirming around. You place a hand over your boobs, rubbing your nipple slowly.
“Please, Vika.” You whine, she hums, continuing the slow rub against your clit, the scent of your pussy getting to her. She holds her dick, rubbing it at the same pace as your clit.
Your ass clenches once she presses another kiss against it, opening her lips, her tongue comes out, licking down on your pussy one time. The sounds of your moans make her yearn even more for you. Pushing your hips up, to her face, she inhales the scent of your pussy. A loud moan leaves her mouth, feeling the vibration against your cunt, you lie your body back down on the bed.
“Shh baby, I got you.” Sevika reminds you, yet, it almost does not feel like it. Your pussy gets wetter with each kiss she leaves on your clit. Your fingers find her hair, gripping it. She smiles, spitting on your pussy, admiring the glare.
Standing back up now, Sevika rubs her dick again, whimpering and grunts coming out a bit louder now. Your stomach knots again, watching her get closer. Sevika leans over you, pressing a kiss on your forehead, then on your lips. “Whenever you're ready.” She whispers against your ear.
You gulp, glancing up at her, “I’m ready.” You respond, Sevika waits no longer, wrapping her hand around the base of her dick, she lightly taps your pussy, watching your squirm under her.
A couple more taps, Sevika begins to rub her dick against your pussy, moaning leaving both of your lips. You lean your head, only for her to move her hand under the back of your head to face her again. Your eyes lock with each other, pressing your lips onto hers, lips locking as you wrap your arms around her.
Sevika gives in, aligning herself with you, taking a moment to stare at your face. The heat between you two intensifies, your pussy twitching as she slides and pushes into you, slowly stretching you out.
You both moan, her hand moving down to the back of your neck, keeping it protected. “You okay?” She asks for confirmation, and you nod fast, “Yeah, you?” You let out breathless.
“Always.” She murmurs before pressing another kiss on your lips. Sevika slowly thrusts into your pussy, feeling it clench around her. She was so big and warm, it was impossible for you to stay focused. Her nipples brush against yours, both of you whimpering at the same time.
You wrap your legs around her hips, “You feel so good.” She drags out, pressing her face against the nook of your neck. Every fiber of your body is on fire, so hungry for more.
Sevika moves her stroke down to the side of your waist, caressing your skin, feeling your goosebumps, and hearing the sighs leave you. She chuckles against your neck, “That’s it, baby, let it out for me, yeah?” You nod and moan, “Yes.”
Sevika quickens her pace a bit, her thrusts becoming more greedy. Your tits and hers knock against each other, making you both moan a bit louder than the last time. Your hands grip her back, your thighs clamping against hers. “Fuck, you're so tight," She groans, her fingers finding your hip, holding on to it for support.
You grind up, matching her pace as your eyes never leave her. “You like that, baby?” You ask softly, and Sevika nods, pathetic whimpers leaving her lips. “Yes, like that, pretty girl.” Her voice shakes, just the way you like it.
Following with another deep thrust, the sounds of your pussy becoming wetter by the second thrust, another moan from Sevika. You close your eyes, now resting one hand over your forehead as you swirl around her dick. Feeling the stickiness of her pre-cum starting to grow.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, so mine.” She grunts out, tone full of satisfaction. You gasp and arch your back as the deeper she goes.
Keeping her hand behind your neck, her fingers move up to the back of your hair a little, itching your scalp as she kisses you. Grinding herself into you, your eyes roll back a little, trying to stay focused. Still hard at a time like this, your clit throbbing from each movement.
Each thrust fills you up, deep and restless. Her hand moves out from your hair, moving down to your ass and gripping it, spreading your ass cheeks. “Fuck you were made for me, yeah? This pussy was made for me?” She begs, “Yes, shit, Sevika.” Your mouth opens wider as you moan.
Your walls clench around her dick, you struggle to breathe, mind goes blank from all these sensations.
“Such a good girl for me.” She moans out, pulling out, and you both gasp. Before you could complain, she thrusts back into you. Every movement amplifies, you move your hand away from your forehead, now resting it on her back as you scratch it up.
You both sweat with every movement, the bed was soaked with your wetness and both of your sweats.
You cry out, as your stomach grows butterflies. Her muscles tighten and moans leave her as your pussy squeezes hers. Her fingers caress your breast, gently pinching your nipples, chuckling as she hears you whimper.
“Close baby?” She mumbles out, feeling herself getting there too.
You nod and look up at her, “Yes,” you say breathlessly. She hums, keeps up her thrusts, getting too much for both of you.
Your throat is dry, you feel brainless, pleasure consuming you both. She fastens her pace, not letting go of you. You grip the sheets, feeling yourself getting closer. Still inside you, she slows herself, pushing in and out. “That’s my good girl.” She grunts out, you shiver and nod.
“Engh~ please, ‘Vika!” You beg out, feeling her press against your neck. “I got you, baby, I got you.” She repeats, and you nod slowly.
“S’okay, cum for me.” She whines out. Your lips turn into a pout, as you become whiny in seconds. Tears run down your ears while you grip the bedsheets tighter.
You could feel your pussy feeling warmer, ready to let go. Hearing her moans is your motivation, your cunt tightens and as expected, spills out with your cum.
Sevika reaches seconds after, her hips doing one hard thrust as her cum fills you up. It’s thick and sticky, dripping down to your ass and on the bed. Her cum pressed against her balls. Wrapping her hand around the base of her dick, Sevika pulls out deliberately, tapping her tip against your folds.
You’re both breathless, sweating all over your face and body. Sevika’s eyes darken, moving her head down to your stomach, she licks the sweat up and hums.
You shiver, staring at her as she moves to your face. You wrap your tired arms around her neck. Pressing a kiss on her lips, feeling her dick caress your pussy a little.
You both whimper and sigh pleasurably.
Sevika moves beside you, lying on her back and pulling you closer. You rest your head on her breast, turning your head and pressing a kiss on her nipple, feeling her shiver.
You both breathe heavily, trying to recover from moments before.
There was no doubt in your mind that you would tease her again, and she knew it too.
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Natasha struggles to bond with your new born daughter
You hear your daughters soft cries from the kitchen and you call out to your girlfriend Natasha “Baby, will you settle her please?”
Natasha has to hold in her sigh as she stands up from the couch and approaches the bassinet that your daughter is lying in. She’s three months old and she lets out a little wail as she squirms, her little hands flailing, her face red and screwed up. Natasha looks down at her – she knows she should pick her up, try and soothe her… But she can’t bring herself to do it.
You and Natasha had been dating for five years and last year you’d brought up the subject of children. Natasha had sighed “I can’t have any.” She put her hand over her stomach “The red room made sure of that.”
“We could adopt.” You’d suggested “Or… I could carry the baby? I mean, only of us needs to carry the baby. You’d still be a parent, even if we used a sperm donor.”
Natasha hadn’t been sure at first but had eventually agreed. You’d both looked through long lists of sperm donors before selecting one and before you knew it you were having a baby. Natasha had been ecstatic when you’d told her the news and she’d loved looking after you while you were pregnant. The way you waddled around, the way your ankles swelled, the fact you needed her help with pretty much everything, even something as simple as getting dressed. Natasha had been excited to be a Mom, her hand fondly rubbing your baby bump each night and whispering to their unborn child.
But then the baby arrived.
The moment you’d given birth your daughter had been placed on your bare chest and you’d fallen in love with her instantly, cradling your precious baby in your arms. Natasha had watched with a sudden pang of something she couldn’t identify but one thought had immediately popped into her head – this baby wasn’t hers. When your daughter had eventually been passed to her she’d cradled the little stranger in her arms and she felt nothing. No rush of love, no affection, nothing. Only a disconnect from this tiny creature who Natasha felt had nothing to do with her.
You’d let Natasha name the baby and she’d settled on Melissa, taking inspiration from her adopted Mother’s name. Natasha had hoped being able to name her something so personal would help form a connection… But it had been three months since you’d brought Melissa home from the hospital and things had only gotten worse.
Natasha was failing as a Mother. She knew this to be true even though you reassured her she wasn’t. Natasha did everything she possibly could to avoid being left alone with Melissa. On the few occasions she did care for her she did the bare minimum – she’d change Melissa’s diaper or feed her a bottle but she wouldn’t whisper and sing to her the way that you constantly did. She didn’t rock her gently or press kisses to the top of her head. It was as if she was holding someone else’s baby, perhaps the baby of a friend of a friend.
Melissa’s cries grow more impatient and demanding so Natasha reluctantly lifts her up, swearing that the cries grow even louder. Natasha closes her eyes for a second – this baby hates her. She knows Natasha’s not really her Mother and she resents it.
Natasha quickly carries Melissa into the kitchen, holding her out to you “She needs you.”
You purse your lips together, gathering Melissa into your arms “I was in the middle of something-”
“She wants her Mom.”
“You’re her Mom too. I should be able to leave her with you for five minutes.” You bounce Melissa gently in your arms as her cries slowly start to soften.
Natasha looks away “She doesn’t like me.”
“Jeez, Nat- Of course she likes you, she’s only a baby and you’re her Mom-”
“No, I’m-” Natasha curses under her breath, closing her eyes again before letting out a long sigh “I’m gonna go out.”
“What do you mean?” Your eyes widen as Natasha suddenly leaves the kitchen and heads to get her shoes “Where are you going?”
“Just… Out. I won’t be long.”
“Nat-” It’s too late, Natasha’s already gone, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with the baby.
Hours go by and Natasha doesn’t come home. You keep trying to ring her cell but she doesn’t answer. It gets late and you settle Melissa down in her crib, pressing a kiss to her little forehead before sneaking back into the living room and trying Natasha’s phone again. It goes through to her voicemail for the millionth time and you have to resist the urge to throw the phone across the room, knowing that won’t help.
You sit down on the couch, knowing you won’t get any sleep until Natasha is safely home with you. You’d known she was struggling to bond with Melissa but whenever you’d tried to bring it up Natasha had immediately shut it down, not wanting to discuss it with you. So you’d dropped it, hoping that giving Natasha a bit of space and encouraging her to care for Melissa would solve the issue but it hadn’t.
The night stretches out forever. Melissa wakes a few times and you go through to the bedroom immediately to soothe her cries. When Melissa wakes up for her 7AM feed Natasha still isn’t home and your own eyes are watering, with upset and exhaustion as you pad through to the bedroom and lift your baby into your arms. Melissa’s cries quieten the moment you pick her up, content in the knowledge you’re going to feed and attend to her needs.
You’re sat on the couch feeding Melissa her bottle when Natasha finally returns. She brushes straight past you and heads into the bedroom. You feel a hot stab of anger “Where the hell have you been?” You call out.
“I told you I was going out.”
“I tried to call.” You stand, cradling Melissa in your arms as you stomp through to the bedroom where Natasha is wearily pulling off her shoes “Nat-”
“I’m really tired-”
“Oh and you think I’m not?” You snap “You think I was having of a whale of a time here by myself with the baby? I didn’t sleep a damn wink waiting for you, I was worried-”
Melissa seems to pick up on the tension between the two of you and starts to wail. Natasha glances over “It’s getting upset.”
“’It’? Natasha, she is your baby, your little girl. Where were you?”
“Met up with Maria for a few drinks. We got a bit carried away.”
You frown “You- You can’t just leave like that Nat, I can’t even remember the last time I got to have a night to myself-”
“You wanted this kid-”
“And so did you and now you can barely stand to look at her! What’s the problem?”
Natasha groans loudly and snaps “She’s your kid, not mine-”
“What do you mean? You’re her Mom, you’re on the birth certificate, you’re her Mom in every sense of the word.”
Natasha looks at Melissa who’s squirming and wailing in your arms. She keeps her gaze on the baby for a long moment before meeting your eye “No, I’m not.”
“Nat-”
“I’m going to stay with Maria for a few days. I can’t do this anymore Y/N.”
Your stomach drops and you gently lay Melissa down in her crib as Natasha grabs a bag and begins to shove her clothes into it. You grab Natasha’s arm “Hey! What are you talking about? You can’t just walk out-”
“I need a break, I can’t be here anymore-”
“Oh and you think I don’t want a break?” You snap “You think this is easy for me? I’m fucking exhausted Nat; you haven’t helped at all with Melissa. You were supposed to be taking a year’s maternity leave and you went back to work after just one month. And then when you are home you’re not really here, you barely talk to me, you don’t look at Melissa-”
“I made a mistake. Okay? I thought having a kid would be good but… I’m not cut out for this.” Natasha pauses in her packing “I thought I could deal with not being a blood relative-”
“Nat, come on, that’s bullshit and you know it. Yelena isn’t blood related to you but she’s still your sister.” You squeeze her arm “You named our baby after Melina, she’s not your birth Mom but you still love her-”
“I don’t love Melissa.” Natasha says “I’m sorry but I don’t.”
“I- That’s fine. Okay? That’s normal. Motherhood is- Well, it’s crazy, nobody’s born knowing how to be a parent.” You say desperately “I felt a rush of love for her when she was born but I carried her for nine months, there was a bond there, it… It won’t happen overnight Nat but you need to try.” Natasha stays frozen for a moment before returning to pack her bag. Your eyes water and you try to grab her arm “Stop this Nat, please-”
Natasha ignores you, pulling her shoes back on and throwing the backpack over her shoulder “I’m sorry Y/N.”
You try to grab her arm again as she walks past but she shrinks away and keeps walking “Nat! Nat, please-” You follow after her “We can figure this out but I need you to stay. You need to stay Nat, please-”
“I can’t.” Natasha grabs her keys and opens the door to your apartment.
“Nat, don’t! We need you, Nat-” Natasha shuts the door in your face and you pound your fist against it as tears stream down your face. You hear Melissa’s cries from the bedroom as you sink to the floor, sobbing “Nat!” You call out through your tears “Nat, please come back… Please, Nat, please…”
You want to curl up on the floor and cry until you can convince yourself this has all been a bad dream. But your daughter’s cries are getting louder and more desperate so you pull yourself to your feet and stumble into the bedroom, lifting Melissa out of the crib and cradling her close to your chest.
How had it all gone so wrong? You’d been so looking forward to being a mother and Melissa was everything you had ever hoped for. But you’d lost Natasha. You gently bounce Melissa in your arms as you take a deep breath, trying to get your own tears under control. Melissa seems to sense your sadness and whimpers, her little hand gripping your shirt tightly.
You sigh and press a kiss to your baby’s head. You never wanted to do this alone. Natasha was supposed to be here. But she’d turned her back on you. On you and your little girl.
You look down at your daughter and she looks back up at you with her big, innocent eyes. You give a shaky, tearful smile and whisper “It’s okay little one… I’m right here. Mama’s not going anywhere. I promise.”
Melissa lets out another whimper and you gently rock her, sitting down on the bed you share with Natasha. You don’t know if Natasha’s coming back. Maybe you’ll try and call her tomorrow. But right now, you can’t deal with that. So instead you focus on your little girl, focusing on rocking and soothing her as she slowly calms. As your daughter settles, your own tears slow as well. You didn’t want to do this alone but if it comes to it… You will. You’ll never let your daughter down.
Summary: Alessia wants to watch a movie but you have other plans. Is there room for compromise? 18+
Warnings: g!p Alessia, smut, unpotected p in v, cock warming, praise kink, breeding kink
Word count: 3.9k
Note: I haven't written for Alessia in quite a while, hope you enjoy!
You haven't seen Alessia in a couple of days. Both of you were pretty busy this past week. First, you had a couple of meetings that went on much later than anticipated which made you very tired and not very sociable when you got home. And then Alessia had a Champions League game in Spain which had her out of the country for two days.
She made it home very, very late after the game the previous day, the club flying her team home directly after the game finished. You didn't even wake up when she got in and only saw her sleeping next to you when you had to get up for work this morning.
It's now Friday and you couldn't get done with work and home any faster. You want to spend time with your girlfriend before she has to go to yet another away game on Sunday. It's only in Liverpool but it'll still have her out for the whole day. At least you're able to attend that one as it's within a reasonable driving distance.
Alessia texted you a couple of times during the day and you know she's at home, waiting for you with no further plans for either of you until the next morning.
Thankfully, you're able to leave work pretty early, citing your overtime meetings early in the week. You make it home in the afternoon, ready for some quality time with your girlfriend.
"I'm home!" You yell into the house, already kicking your shoes off and throwing your bag on the counter. You don't care about the mess, you've missed your girlfriend.
"In the bedroom!" Comes Alessia's muffled answer and you immediately make your way over.
"Hi my love." Alessia smiles up at you from her position on your shared bed when you open the door. She seems to be watching some movie or show that you don't instantly recognize when you glance at the TV. You look at her and take her in, laying on your bed in her sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking all cozy but hot at the same time. So inviting in multiple ways, really.
"Hi" You breathe, bending down and giving her a quick kiss. You sit down on the edge of the bed, right next to her. "What are you watching?"
"Jurassic Park, the first one, with Laura Dern. I'm not even half done, do you want to join me? We can cuddle for a bit?"
You shrug, while you don't have any particular interest in the movie that's already started, your main priority is to have Alessia close to you, so you don't mind.
Before joining Alessia in bed, you take off your workclothes and put on a big t-shirt and no shorts, leaving you in your panties, your version of a perfect lounging outfit.
Alessia opens her arms and you lay down, cuddling into her side. She's half sitting against the pillows, half laying down and you turn on your side, throwing one of your legs and your arm over her. Her arm holds you securely around your shoulders, pulling you as much into her body as possible. Your head falls to her shoulder and you look at the screen.
"Is the one you mentioned, Laura Dern was it? Is she the one with the red shirt?" ,
"Yes, she is."
You sigh, contentedly. While you aren't interested in the movie and don't really listen as Alessia goes on about the dinosaurs, characters, and plotlines, you're just happy to feel her hand running over your shoulder and her other hand grabbing the thigh you threw across her body. It's great to be so wrapped around her and feel her so close.
For some time, you're completely content in laying with Alessia while she watches the movie and even watching some of the movie as well. But after a while, you grow a bit restless.
You haven't really spent any time with Alessia for days now and you've missed her. Just laying with her isn't enough for you. So, you start to let your hand, that's laying on her stomach, wander.
First, you start to draw circles across her stomach, hoping to get her attention, but she seems too engrossed in the movie. Then, you crane your neck to press a few kisses to the underside of her jaw.
You can see her throat bob and she leans her head a little more into your direction, giving you a clear sign. While her attention may remain on the movie for now, she is clearly reacting to your touch.
Still, she tells you off. "Babe, let's watch the movie first, okay?"
Obviously, that small reaction is not enough for you and you decide to be bolder despite her words, letting your hand wander lower from Alessia's stomach to her crotch. You move your hand slowly, just lightly stroking up and down.
When you look up at Alessia's face, you can see that she's definitely trying harder than before to concentrate on the movie. Your actions clearly have an affect on her.
You squeeze her cock through her sweatpants and proceed to run your hand over it, feeling Alessia twitch and starting to get hard. You feel yourself starting to get wet just from palming her cock and shiver slightly.
"Baby," Alessia grabs your hand on her crotch. "I really want to finish the movie, I haven't seen it in such a long time." She looks down at you with a smile on her face and leaves a quick kiss on your forehead. "But afterwards I'm all yours okay?"
"But Less..." You trail off with a slight whine in your tone. You've been turned on practically all day and don't want to wait any longer. You put your hand back on her crotch and let it rest on her clothed cock. "There's so much of the movie left. We can watch it later, can we not?"
Alessia hums but keeps her eyes on the TV, not following your plan. But she also doesn't remove your hand from where it's resting on her crotch which she definitely would've if she truly didn't want anything to happen. You take that as an invitation to start moving your hand again. You can feel that her cock is already semi-hard, she's clearly getting turned on as well.
Watching her slowly getting more turned on does something to you. You've already been so in the mood before but this stirs something deep within you and in your head, a need for Alessia, to have her close and to feel her.
"I thought I told you to wait?" Alessia looks at you with a look that is very contradictory. She looks very turned on but is trying to be strict at the same time. You know how to push her buttons though to get what you want and need.
"I wanna feel your thick cock inside of me Less, I'm so wet. I don't wanna wait. Can't wait."
Telling her you want to feel her inside of you is a huge turn on for her. And sure enough, Alessia reacts instantly.
"Alright." Alessia suddenly sits up a bit, making you tumble in the process as well. "Take off your panties, baby."
You scramble to quickly do as she said, dumping your panties unceremoniously next to the bed. When you grab the hem of your shirt though, she shakes her head. "Leave the shirt on."
Alessia then lifts her hips to slip off her sweatpants and boxers, uncovering her semi-hard cock.
You lick your lips in anticipation and lean forwards, wanting to work her up with your mouth. But Alessia clearly has other ideas. Her hand shoots out to keep you from leaning too close to her cock.
"No, baby, you have to wait for now. You're already getting your wish, be good for me, yeah?" She gives you a pointed look but then turns her head away from you and towards the TV.
That instantly makes you stop, of course you want to be good for Alessia.
You watch on as she slowly starts to stroke her own cock, still not looking at you. She seems to be making a point by that. The sight of her cock slowly getting hard and growing in her hand is mesmerizing so you're not too upset if you're getting this show instead.
For the moment, you're kneeling right beside Alessia, watching and waiting. You don't know for what you're waiting exactly but you trust Alessia.
You watch as Alessia keeps pumping her cock for a short while. Watching her hand stroke her thick shaft makes you clench around nothing in anticipation of feeling her cock inside of you soon, the pre-cum that's starting to slowly dribble out of her already looks amazing.
When her cock is fully hard and standing to attention, she lets go and turns her head to you.
"Get on baby, facing me. I want to see your pretty face."
Of course, you immediately react and shuffle over. You put one leg over her body, kneeling over her. You grab the base of her cock to align it with your by now pretty much dripping entrance.
Then you start to slowly sink down, making it a point to look directly into Alessia's eyes while doing so. You moan softly when you first feel her tip on your entrance. You insert her tip and sink down, feeling her cock practically splitting you open.
"Good job, baby." Alessia whispers as you keep sinking down. "Taking me so well." Her hands rest on your thighs, she's not pushing your or intervening in any other way, just watching you sink down on her.
You beam and blush at her words, letting the compliment wash over you as you finally reach the base, now taking her cock fully inside of you.
"Does that feel good, baby?"
You nod. "So good, I feel so full." You lean down to kiss Alessia. Your arms fall to her shoulders while hers stay in your thighs. You tongue slowly dances with Alessia's, no one's trying to take the lead for now, just slowly making out and enjoying each other's presence.
When you break the kiss, you start to move, wanting to ride her, but Alessia stops you with a firm squeeze to your thighs.
"No baby, you got what you wanted and have my cock inside of you. Now I get what I wanted and will watch this movie until it's finished."
You whine.
"Until then, you're going to stay still. Do you think you can do that, baby?" One of Alessia's hands cups your face. She holds you and looks directly at you. "Do you think you can be my good girl?"
"Yes, yes, please, I'm your good girl." You practically moan your words.
"Perfect," Alessia leans forwards to kiss you once more "make yourself comfortable, there's more than half an hour left."
You whimper but surrender to your fate. Since Alessia is still sitting against the pillows you are easily able to snuggle into her with her cock inside of you. You put your head on the crook of her neck and her arms come around you to hold you close.
Cuddling with Alessia is one of your favorite things because she's just such a good hugger and comfortable person. She does provide a lot of comfort now as well, even though your mind is completely occupied by her thick cock inside of your cunt.
You can faintly hear the movie in the background, someone is fighting for their life or with a dinosaur or both. You don't really know and also don't care. You couldn't concentrate on the movie if you tried.
All you currently know is the feeling of being full. It feels incredible really. Of course, you wish you could move but having Alessia's cock just inside of you with nothing else happening truly is wonderful in itself.
You feel very connected to your girlfriend even though she is currently watching a movie and not paying you any attention. Then again, her cock is literally rock-hard inside of you so she's paying you some attention after all.
You let yourself feel her completely. Having her deep inside of you, stretching you, manages to overtake you. You start to think about how it'll feel when she starts to move, how her cock will slide in and out of you, how she'll cum deep inside of your cunt, just how you like it.
All your thoughts make you lightly moan into Alessia's neck. You feel how your breath on her makes her shiver slightly. Her body moving under you even just a bit sends a jolt through your cunt and makes you squeeze around her cock. Immediately, you feel her hands squeeze your waist. "Don't move, baby."
"I- I can't help it." You whimper. "Feels so good."
"Just under half an hour left now. Be good for me." Alessia's voice is soft and she kisses your forehead which is such a tender gesture in these circumstances.
You become more aware of the rest of your body and Alessia's. You feel your hard nipples straining against your shirt and wish to have Alessia's mouth on them. You feel her hands around your midriff and can't wait until they'll hold you in place so she can fuck you. You turn your head to watch her face and especially her mouth from your position against her neck and imagine kissing her deeply as she cums inside of you.
All these thoughts running through your mind and her cock just still inside of you, work you up. You feel the knot in your core tightening the longer you think about having sex with Alessia. You moan again which makes her look at you questioningly.
"I'm- I'm so close Less, I- fuck, I really need to cum, please!"
"Oh baby, does my cock feel so good that you can cum from that alone?"
You nod against her neck, blushing again. For some reason you feel a bit shy about it. Alessia's arms around you tighten and you feel her cock twitch inside of you.
"Make yourself cum on my cock without moving, baby." Alessia says, her voice low. "I have only five minutes of the movie left, do you think you can cum before that?"
You whimper but manage to nod as well.
"Are you so close, baby? Gosh, I can feel how wet you are, it's going to be so easy for me to fuck you after you've cum."
Alessia's words go right to your core, making you clench around her yet again.
"Oh, my pretty girl, you're so good, keeping my cock warm for me to fuck you when I'm ready."
One of her hands tenderly strokes over your hair. You're lost in Alessia's words and start rambling along. "F- fuck, 'm so close, please L-ess, I n- need to cum!"
"Cum for me, babygirl, cum on my cock and show me just how desperate you are."
Finally, you get so overwhelmed by everything you're feeling and her words that you actually cum just from sitting on her cock. You moan loudly and tremble a bit on Alessia's lap from your orgasm. It's not as intense as it would've been with some added penetration or some attention to your clit, but you're still amazed that you could cum like this at all.
"Wow baby." Alessia puts a hand under your chin to lift your head slightly so that she can kiss you. The kiss isn't deep as you're still breathing hard but it feels very good to feel Alessia's lips against your own regardless.
There's music playing in the background now. Alessia grabs the remote and finally turns the TV off. Her hands come to your waist, holding you. "Now, how about you finally get what you really want, yeah?"
She accompanies her sentence with one thrust up into you, even though she's already bottomed out. You moan loudly, finally having her move feels heavenly.
You start to move automatically on top of Alessia who just keeps her hand on your waist and watches as you start to move up and down her cock. Her hands come to the hem of your shirt and she pulls it off you in one swift motion, exposing your tits to her.
"Looking good, baby." Alessia compliments and you moan in response.
You love that you can finally feel her cock running along your walls but you also know that you won't last long since you've been worked up for so long and only got to cum once so far.
You lean forward a bit to be able to kiss Alessia again, this time you open your mouth immediately and welcome her tongue. Making out while riding her cock is one of your favorite positions, it makes you feel so connected to her. You moan into her mouth.
Alessia lets her hands run up and down your sides before she cups your tits and squeezes them. They were bouncing up and down a lot from your movement but now Alessia just runs her thumbs over your nipples repeatedly, making you moan.
"Less, pl- please, I need t' cum again. Fuck, 'm so close already." Your movements on top of her get more uncontrolled.
"Just a bit longer, baby."
Alessia takes over now. She sits up a bit more and envelopes you with her arms, holding you in place. Then, she starts to thrust into you from underneath. Her thrusts aren't faster than your riding had been but she definitely fucks you harder than you had yourself. You immediately know you'll cum very soon.
"We're gonna cum t'gether, babygirl."
You moan and try to kiss Alessia again but she keeps talking. "Do you think you can take all my cum like the good girl you are? 'm gonna cum deep inside of you, fill you up with my cum."
"P- please." You whine . "Need to cum."
"Go on then baby, cum for me." Alessia orders.
You moan and feel yourself tipping over the edge. You clench around Alessia's cock. In turn, Alessia moans loudly and shoots her cum into your cunt, her seed hitting your walls and filling you deep within. Her cumming directly after you prolongs your own orgasm as well.
"F- feels so gooooood." You moan along to Alessia filling you with her cum. "Feel so full already."
Alessia lets herself fall back against the pillows behind her, just how she had lain before. She pulls you down with her, laying you down on her own upper body again. Her hands run soothingly up and down your back as you both catch your breath and come down from your orgasms.
Her cock is still nestled deep inside of you, as hard as ever.
"Do you think you have one more in you, pretty girl?" Alessia asks softly, making you nod against her.
"One more."
Alessia kisses you then, pushing her tongue into your mouth immediately while her hands are still running over your back. She squeezes your ass, making you moan in her mouth once more.
She taps your ass once and breaks the kiss. "Come on, baby. Lie down on your front for me."
Slowly, you push yourself up, your legs a little shaky from the exercise of riding her and also the general exhaustion that is normal when getting fucked by Alessia.
You let her cock slip out of you and kneel over her for a second. You feel some of her cum immediately starting to slowly run down your leg. Knowing that she's filled you so much already feels amazing and immediately turns you on some more.
Following what Alessia asked of you, you lie down on your front, right next to her. You turn your head so that you can see what she's doing next.
When you're in the position she’s asked of you, Alessia doesn't hesitate and pushes herself up as well. She then kneels behind you and over your ass. You feel her running her cock over your ass and your pussy from behind multiple times.
Your ass and thighs are completely surrounded by Alessia's strong thighs, bracketing you in. You still try to wiggle your ass, which doesn't really work and especially doesn't make Alessia push her cock back into you like you wanted.
Instead, you feel her hands knead your ass for a bit which is also nice but just not enough.
"Please, Less." You whine but she keeps running her hands over your ass and doesn't move her cock.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Alessia grabs the base of her cock and you feel her push her tip into your cunt.
"Fuck me, Less, please fuck me already."
"As you wish."
Alessia pushes into you with one motion, making you whimper at the sudden intrusion and the feeling of finally being filled again. She starts with slower but deliciously deep thrusts.
Her hands are placed right by your head, making her lean over you as much as she can.
You crane your head to be able to see her and sure enough, her face is right above yours. You try to kiss her but she isn't close enough. Instead, she looks down on you with an intense and incredibly hot look on her face.
"Fuck me Less, d- don't hold back, fu-ck me and fill me with all your cum!" Your words are accompanied by a moan.
"You want more of my cum inside of you, baby? So greedy and desperate." She chuckles but you can hear how turned on she is in her voice.
"Alright."
With that, she pushes herself up and puts one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder. You can feel her leaning some of her weight onto you, pressing you even more into the mattress than you already were.
She starts to really fuck into you, her pace is much faster than before and her thrusts remain as hard and deep. You're a moaning mess now, feeling completely overwhelmed and overstimulated.
Before you know it, you feel another orgasm approaching quickly.
"Ooh, fuck, 'm cumming!" You practically sob your words right before your third orgasm ripples through you. You feel your whole body shaking and yourself clenching around Alessia's cock.
Alessia fucks you right through your orgasm, her pace doesn't falter. Her fucking you like that definitely prolongs your orgasm, making it a very powerful and overwhelming one.
If you weren't already lying down, you definitely would be now after this orgasm.
After a couple moments, you feel Alessia slow her pace for a couple of thrusts. Those are especially deep and hard and then you feel her cumming deep inside of you again.
Alessia moans above you and you deliberately clench around her cock a couple of times as she empties herself into you. You feel her cum mixing with the cum already inside of you, making you even fuller than before. It feels amazing.
When she's done, Alessia slumps down on top of you to catch her breath. After a couple of minutes, she starts to pull her cock out of you.
But you whine in response.
"What is it, baby? You don't like feeling empty, do you?"
"Need a nap, but please stay inside. Feels so comfortable with you inside of me."
"Alright." Alessia lies her front on your back and then slowly rolls the two of you over in more of a spooning position which is perfect for you.
You moan just from the feeling of getting moved around. But you feel the exhaustion overwhelm you and soon close your eyes, going to sleep with Alessia's cock still safe inside of you.
Summary: You and Natasha are exes, you kept a secret from her… but not all secrets can be kept in the dark forever.
G!P Natasha x female reader. (Secret child)
Word count: 5.8k
Fluff, angst (if you squint).
(Men and minors dni)
You used to be an avenger, key words ‘used to’. You were a skilful agent, there wasn’t nothing you couldn’t take down in a fight, other than Bruce banner when he’s is ‘Green mode’. You also used to be Natasha Romanoff’s ex girlfriend. That was until the two of you got into a bad fight and she used a secret you’d told her against you. Since then, the trust has broken, you broke up and never spoke again.
2 months after the breakup, you returned back to being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, working as third in command. Fury, Hill, then you. You mainly worked on missions and training new agents to perfection.
That was until you went into labour. What. Labour? You haven’t had sex since… Natasha. You didn’t know you were pregnant, I mean, you’re not ready for children and you have a responsibility and duty to S.H.I.E.L.D. The doctors told you it was a ‘phantom pregnancy’, but a week after the birth, you returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. with a baby girl called Callie.
Telling Natasha felt out of the picture, she didn’t even know about the baby anyway, so she won’t care… right? So you told Maria under no circumstances does Callie get into the hands of Natasha or Natasha even know about her in the first place.
The present day.
Callie is now 3 years old, she’s healthy, beautiful and just perfect. She spends most of her time with you, unless you’re on a mission or a meeting, which is when she gets sent to the S.H.I.E.L.D. daycare service.
Today is one of those days where you spend most of your time with a bunch of brand new cocky recruits who think they’re the best because they were ‘selected’ personally by fury, which is a lie. Your job is to show them that they’re not.
What you were probably emailed about but got distracted by Callie’s tantrum, was that the avengers were be having a ‘show around’ of the new S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, but you eventually found out. The hard way.
You’re on the mats with one of the recruits who has enough cologne on to burn the hair out your nostrils. He’s throwing punches, weak punches, very weak punches. Naturally, you’re there for guidance… and minor bullying. It’s all character building in your opinion.
On a particularly weak punch you tackle him to the ground, your arm around his waist as your foot hooks under his ankle and you push him to the ground. You stand above him with a clearly disapproving look. “Seriously? My Three-year-old fights better than you.” You say with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips.
You too busy verbally stripping all of the recruits confidence away to hear the arrival of Maria and her showing the Avengers around. However the sound of Tony’s sarcastic comment alerts you of their presence. “I thought your job was to help make the recruits better, not to verbally abuse them.” He has a teasing glint in his eyes and a shit eating grin on his face.
“I thought your job was to save the world, last I heard you were in the Bahamas enjoying a cocktail by the beach.” You shoot back playfully with a smirk as the recruit stands up and joins the rest of your ‘victims’.
“What, can’t a millionaire have fun every once in a while?” Tony teases as the rest of the avengers just shake their heads in amusement and frustration. But you don’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes avoid looking at you and choose to stare at every wall in the training room.
“Enough Tony.” Steve says with a sigh, before walking up to you and pulling you into a somewhat fatherly hug “It’s been a long time, huh kid?” He says before releasing you but keeping his arm over your shoulder as he walks you towards your old team.
“That it has.” You say with a soft smile. You look everyone over. Clint looks like he’s balding, probably from dealing with his wife and three kids. Thor looks… the same really, although his hair looks a bit shorter. Wanda’s hairs now red, and the whole ‘emo/goth’ thing she had going on is replaced with a more… American look. Vision stands close to her, he looks the same. And Natasha… she looks exhausted, the black eye bags under her eyes clearly showing lack of sleep. You almost feel pity towards her, knowing you were the one thing she had to help her with her nightmares. But then you remembered what she did and that pity turns to indifference.
“So, will you be joining us for the rest of this tour we’re being forced to do?” Tony asks with a teasing glint. Which only causes you to roll you eyes. “I can’t I’ve got to finish breaking these new recruits. I’m hoping to break my record this time.” You reply cockily, but in all honesty, you don’t want to spend anymore time with Natasha than you actually have to.
“Oh come on, kid. It’ll be fun we haven’t seen you in almost 4 years.” Steve says as he pats your back. “Guys I really can’t, I need to finish training the new people” you reply desperate to not come on this show round with them.
“Oh give them a break, they’ve probably been at it for hours knowing you.” Tony remarks, but you can see the in his eyes he’s missed you, all though he wouldn’t say that to your face, like ever.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Fine, but only for a little bit, I don’t want to have to go on this boring show around in a place I walk around every day.” You say feigning annoyance. You see Natasha’s eyes almost light up when you do say this, and her shoulders relax.
You send the recruits to the break room, informing them of your absence for the next couple hours or so, they look almost thankful for the break, maybe you were a bit too hard on them.
Eventually, you rejoin the avengers for their tour. The first 30 minutes were boring, just Maria telling them all things you already knew about, which is what the rest of the tour is probably going to be.
Natasha drops back from the group to walk next to you, she looks almost… timid. Which is a stark contrast to Natasha’s usual confidence and cockiness. She doesn’t say anything for a while, just occasionally staring at your face, clearly not paying attention to anything that’s going on. After about 5 minutes she finally speaks up. “I’m sorry.” The way she said it makes it sound like she’s talking to a wild animal, something that’s going to bolt if you don’t take the right approach.
A frown crosses your face as you look at her, but you just sigh. “Okay.” The tone wasn’t accepting, almost dismissive. Like you’re purposefully ignoring her apology. “I- it was wrong of me to use… that… against you… I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have said it.” She’s practically pleading at this point.
“But you still did.” Your tone was cold, distant even. Natasha sighs and looks at you pleasingly. “I know… and it was the worst mistake of my life… I- I never wanted to hurt you… I was just angry… and I get it if you don’t forgive me.” No, she’s definitely pleading now, the way her eyes are on the brink of tears and her lip trembles as she waits for a reply.
“It’s not that I don’t forgive you, it’s that I don’t trust you.” The response was short, snappy. Trying to ward her off kind of thing. She flinches slightly, her shoulders sink and her head drops. “Okay…” she says, the resignation and acceptance clear in her voice. She looks weak, pathetic even. If things weren’t so… complicated between the two of you, you’d definitely tease her. But you don’t. instead you focus on Maria and how her hands move as she talks about each of the rooms.
The corridor slowly gets more and more recognisable, you recognise every corridor in the facility, obviously. You spend most of your time walking down random corridors with Callie attached to one of your legs as she begs you not to go to a meeting. That’s when it clicks, this corridor leads to the daycare, which is definitely going to be shown to the avengers as it’s a newer thing that was made just after Callie was born.
You mentally scold yourself before glancing at Natasha who looks like a kicked puppy. You sigh and make your way past the avengers to Maria, leaning in to talk in a hushed tone. “Where are you taking them now?” You ask almost dreading the answer. Maria looks at you confused before replying “Just the daycare, it’s the last stop before they go to fury’s office again.”
Your eyes widen slightly. “You mean the daycare that my daughter is in right now? That daycare?!” Your hushed tone is more frustrated and concerned as your eyes glance to Natasha and back to Maria. “What’s so bad about tha- oh… right… well… there’s nothing we can do now… sorry.”
You open your mouth to argue, to beg Maria to divert the tour—maybe a fake fire alarm, a last-minute schedule change, anything—but she’s already walking away, turning back to the group like nothing’s wrong.
“Come on, this way,” she says, all professional charm. “You’ll love this next stop—one of our newer developments for agent families and personnel support.”
You curse under your breath. Of course Maria can’t change it now. Not without raising questions. Not without making it look suspicious. You feel that familiar burn of panic behind your ribs, deep and tight, the kind that used to hit right before a mission went sideways.
Your legs move before your brain does, stepping back into line with the rest of the Avengers. You avoid Natasha’s gaze entirely.
The hallway is too bright. Too sterile. Too full of tension.
“Wait here a sec,” Maria says, stepping ahead to tap her badge against the sensor and swing open the glass doors to the daycare. “Let me just let the team inside know we’re coming.”
The moment the door opens, you hear her.
“Mummy!”
The sound of her tiny sneakers pattering across the linoleum comes before you even see her. Then—there she is.
Callie.
Big green eyes, soft curls pulled into a messy half-bun, wearing her favourite purple hoodie and clutching a plush dinosaur in one hand.
She barrels into you, arms locking tightly around your leg.
You instinctively scoop her up, because that’s what you do, because the second she’s in your arms you remember that this—she—is what matters more than any secret, more than S.H.I.E.L.D., more than whatever this is with Natasha.
“Mummy,” she sighs, nuzzling her face into your shoulder.
You stroke her back and whisper gently, “Hey, baby. You’re meant to be playing with the other kids.”
“They were being mean,” she mumbles.
“Mean how?”
“They wouldn’t let me be Hulk. Said I had to be Black Widow.” Her pout is already forming.
You snort softly, eyes closing for a moment as you press a kiss to the top of her head. “You can be Hulk. You can be whoever you want.”
And that’s when you feel it—that quiet, shattering kind of silence.
Natasha doesn’t say anything when you tell Maria you’re pulling Callie from daycare early. Just lingers in the corridor, eyes locked on the glass, watching your daughter build a tower of colourful blocks.
You push open the door, stride in with a breezy smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Callie lights up all over again.
“Mummy, are we going home now?” she asks, wrapping her arms around your leg again.
You nod, crouching to brush a curl behind her ear. “Yeah, baby. We’re going to the apartment.”
You don’t even have to say anything to Natasha. She follows.
Of course she does.
Your boots echo through the corridors as you carry Callie on your hip, Natasha walking two steps behind like a ghost. Silent. Haunting.
The apartment isn’t much—barebones S.H.I.E.L.D. standard—but you’ve made it yours. Soft throws over the couch. Toys in a neat basket in the corner. Family photos that don’t show Natasha.
You set Callie down and she scampers off to her art corner, already pulling out crayons and paper.
You don’t sit. You busy yourself with the leftover dishes in the sink, just to have something to do with your hands. Your back’s to Natasha, and you intend to keep it that way.
“You made this home,” she says quietly.
You hum noncommittally. “It’s what she needed.”
“She’s beautiful.”
You scrub harder. “She’s a handful.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
You spin, dish towel clenched in your fist. “Why would I, Natasha? So you could drop in for five minutes, feel guilty, and leave again? You don’t get to walk back into my life and act like you’re owed something.”
“I’m not acting like that.”
“Yes. You are.”
Her voice falters. “I just… I want to understand.”
You sigh, turning back to the sink. “There’s nothing to understand.”
You can hear her step closer.
“Is she… is she mine?” Her voice is small. Like she’s already expecting the answer and still terrified of hearing it.
You grip the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles ache.
“She has your eyes,” you say finally. “When she’s mad, she gets this little crease in her brow, just like you. Her favourite food is that god-awful blueberry oatmeal you used to force me to eat because it was ‘good protein’. And when she’s scared, she hides under the bed. Not the covers—the bed. Like you used to.”
You turn, face blank, voice hollow.
“What do you think?”
Natasha’s eyes brim with tears. She steps back like your words physically hit her.
“I didn’t know,” she whispers. “I swear to god, I didn’t know I could—”
“Neither did I,” you cut in. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I was in the damn hospital. The doctors thought it was a phantom pregnancy. I went from a stomach ache to a daughter in less than a day.”
“And you did it alone,” she says, voice cracking.
You nod once. “Every nappy. Every bottle. Every night she woke up screaming, every doctor’s appointment, every scraped knee. I did it all. Without you. Because I thought I’d rather do it alone than let her grow up around someone who could weaponise love.”
That stings. You see it in the way Natasha recoils.
“I’m not that person anymore,” she says softly.
“Good,” you reply. “Then maybe you’ll understand why I didn’t want that person anywhere near her.”
Callie lets out a delighted laugh from the other room and it shatters something in both of you. That pure sound, that innocence. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet.
But Natasha does.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “She’s yours.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
“I never stopped loving you,” Natasha says, so quiet you almost miss it.
You glance at her, just briefly. “Love doesn’t fix everything.”
“I know,” she says. “But maybe… it’s a place to start.”
You don’t answer. You just turn back to the sink. The sound of Callie humming under her breath fills the apartment, and for now, that’s enough to keep you grounded.
Callie yawns dramatically as she finishes colouring in her uneven purple cat. “Mummy, I’m tired.”
You smile, gentler than before. “Are you sure? You haven’t even finished its tail.”
She frowns, eyes narrowed at the page. “It’s fine. She doesn’t need a tail.”
“Fair point,” you murmur, scooping her up without effort. She squeals and clings to you like a baby koala, resting her head against your shoulder, eyelids already drooping.
Natasha’s still standing in the corner of the living room, like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Her arms are crossed, fingers digging into her sleeves, eyes fixed on the two of you like she’s afraid blinking might make you vanish.
You don’t say anything as you carry Callie into the small bedroom tucked just off the corridor. There’s a nightlight shaped like a little whale on the floor, casting ocean-like waves across the ceiling. You flick it on and settle her on the bed.
“Pyjamas, sweetheart,” you remind her softly.
She groans, flops backward on the mattress like the weight of the world has landed on her three-year-old shoulders. “Why can’t I sleep in my clothes?”
“Because if you do, the pyjama gremlins will sneak in and swap all your socks for spaghetti.”
Callie gasps, sitting up in alarm. “Not again!”
You help her into the soft cotton pyjamas with tiny rocket ships on them, brushing out her curls with gentle fingers. The bedtime routine is muscle memory now—lotion, toothbrush, a warm sip of milk. You move around the room like clockwork.
From the doorway, Natasha watches it all unfold. She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t interrupt. She’s barely even breathing.
She takes it all in like it’s the most sacred thing she’s ever seen.
You settle beside Callie on the bed as she wriggles under the covers. “What story tonight?” you ask.
Callie yawns again. “Can you do the one about the space dolphin and the sleepy moon?”
“Again?”
She nods, curls already beginning to press into the pillow.
You launch into the familiar tale, half-improvised, half-remembered. Your voice softens, slows. Halfway through, you look down to find her fast asleep, mouth slightly open, arms wrapped around her stuffed octopus.
You sit still for a moment, just staring at her. Your hand gently strokes her hair, one last time. Then, slowly, you stand and pull the blanket over her shoulder, planting a kiss on her forehead before switching on the baby monitor and padding out into the hallway.
Natasha hasn’t moved. Her face is unreadable, but her eyes—god, her eyes are glassy.
“She’s happy,” you say, quietly. “That’s all that matters.”
“I can’t believe I missed all of that,” Natasha replies, barely above a whisper.
You don’t offer her comfort. Not yet. You just nod. “Yeah. You did.”
You leave the bedroom door cracked just enough to let the glow of the nightlight spill into the hall. That little stretch of golden blue light feels like a thread keeping you anchored—reminding you that she’s there, safe, dreaming.
When you finally turn to Natasha, she looks like she hasn’t breathed since you tucked Callie in.
You motion with your chin toward the kitchen. “Come on. I need tea if I’m going to survive this conversation.”
She follows wordlessly.
You don’t speak as you move around the tiny kitchenette, filling the kettle, pulling down two mismatched mugs. You grab the one with the chip on the rim for yourself—it’s your favourite. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s just familiar.
“I used to imagine this,” Natasha says softly. Her voice is hoarse, like it hasn’t been used in hours. “Not exactly this—but us. A little flat. Something small. Somewhere quiet.”
You glance at her but stay focused on the kettle. “Yeah, well. We never got very good at quiet, did we?”
A sad little smile plays at her lips. “No. We were good at chaos. Sneaking out of debriefs. Sex in safehouses. The fun kind of dysfunctional.”
You let out a soft huff, not quite a laugh. “Fun until it wasn’t.”
The kettle clicks off. You pour the water, letting the silence stretch.
“I didn’t expect her to look so much like you,” she says.
You hand her the mug and sink into the chair opposite her at the tiny dining table. “She’s got your temper.”
“She’s got your strength.”
You don’t respond to that. You just wrap your hands around the warmth of the mug and stare into it like you’ll find the right words at the bottom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks again, gentler this time. “Really.”
You look up at her then. “Because I didn’t want to give her something she’d lose. Or worse, something that would hurt her.”
Natasha blinks, swallowing hard. Her fingers curl tighter around the mug. “You thought I’d hurt her.”
“I know you’d never do it on purpose.” You sigh, eyes dropping to the tabletop. “But that day, when we fought… when you threw my past in my face, I realised how sharp you can get when you’re scared. Or cornered.”
Her face falls. “I was terrified. Of losing you. Of being… soft. You always saw parts of me no one else did. It made me feel safe and exposed all at once, and I panicked.”
You nod slowly. “I know. And I loved you anyway.”
There’s a silence between you—not bitter this time. Just tired.
“I’m not asking for anything,” Natasha says after a moment. “Not custody. Not a place in her life. I just… I want to be near. Even if it’s from a distance. I want to earn it.”
You stare at her, really stare. And for the first time since she showed up today, she doesn’t look like a ghost. She looks like someone trying to come home.
You hesitate, then nod once. “Okay.”
She blinks. “Okay?”
“I’m not promising anything. But if you’re really serious… If you show me—not just with words—then maybe…”
Natasha swallows hard, nodding slowly. “I will.”
The room goes quiet again. The tea goes cold between you.
And maybe it’s not fixed. Maybe it’s not even close.
But in the soft glow from the bedroom, where your daughter dreams peacefully behind a half-closed door, it’s something.
You both sit in silence for a while longer, letting the warmth of the tea settle into your bones. Outside, the facility is still awake—agents moving, lights humming—but inside your flat, the world is quiet. Peaceful.
You glance toward the living room. “You can stay a bit, if you want,” you say, casually. Too casually. “I was going to put something on until I crash.”
Natasha nods, a little too fast, a little too hopeful. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
You flick off the kitchen light and pad barefoot into the living room, curling up on the sofa and grabbing the remote. The glow of the screen fills the space as you drop the volume low enough not to stir Callie.
You flick until you find something familiar, something easy—a rerun of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. You don’t even ask if she likes it. You remember she used to.
Natasha settles beside you, leaving a careful space between your bodies. She’s cautious, like she’s afraid of touching too much, too soon. You notice she hasn’t taken off her boots or her jacket, like she never planned to stay.
It’s awkward at first. The kind of awkward that comes from knowing someone intimately, and then pretending you don’t.
But five minutes in, you’re both smiling. Then chuckling. And by the second episode, you catch yourself glancing at her more than the screen.
She’s watching you, not the show.
You shift slightly, tucking your legs up beneath you and leaning back. A sigh escapes you—one of those long exhales that comes after a hard day and too many emotions.
Natasha takes a chance.
She moves an inch closer. Then another.
You don’t stop her.
Eventually, her shoulder brushes yours. Then her arm. Then the back of her fingers gently graze your thigh as she rests her hand between you, careful not to push.
You look at her.
She looks back.
And maybe it’s the softness of the night. Or the fact that her eyes aren’t sharp anymore. Or maybe it’s that part of you—the one that never stopped loving her—finally letting out the breath it’s been holding for three years.
But you lean your head gently against her shoulder.
She goes still.
Then, slowly, she exhales, her body relaxing like a wave releasing its hold on the shore. Her arm lifts—hesitant, like she’ll be swatted away—and wraps gently around your shoulders, tugging you just that little bit closer.
You let her.
And in that moment, nothing needs to be said. Not yet.
You sit like that for a long while, the low hum of the television filling the silence, your breathing slow and in sync, her thumb brushing lightly over the curve of your shoulder as if trying to memorise the shape of you again.
The television fades to black, the sound of the credits rolling off quietly as the room dips further into the quiet of the night.
You feel Natasha’s breath even out beside you, slow and steady—just like yours. The warmth of her hand still rests on your shoulder, and though the space between you is still small, it feels big enough to breathe in without the weight of old wounds.
You can feel yourself drifting. The light pressure of Natasha’s arm, the soft weight of your head on her shoulder—it’s grounding, and soon you’re both asleep, side by side, the soft hum of the world outside blending into the peaceful stillness of your home.
When you wake, the first thing you notice is the warmth, the comforting weight that surrounds you. The soft smell of sleep and tea still hangs in the air. And the second thing you realise is the small body pressed against your side—warm, tiny, and tucked in close.
You blink, your sleep-heavy mind slowly piecing it together, and as your eyes adjust to the morning light, you look down.
Callie.
Somehow, without you hearing her, without anyone making a sound, your daughter has migrated from her room and nestled between you and Natasha, her tiny body perfectly curled up like it’s always been this way—like she always knew.
Her small hand is resting on Natasha’s chest, her head tucked into the crook of your arm. The little puff of breath that escapes her lips is soft and steady, and for a moment, neither of you moves, not wanting to disturb this peaceful moment.
You glance at Natasha, her eyes still closed, her face relaxed and unguarded in a way you haven’t seen in years. She’s holding Callie close, her hand lightly resting on the small, soft back of your daughter, a warmth in her touch that feels instinctive.
For a long moment, you just lie there, caught in this strange, beautiful stillness, the three of you together in a way that feels too good to be true.
Finally, you break the silence, your voice quiet, barely above a whisper. “She… just came in here on her own?”
Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly, her gaze softening as she takes in the scene. She doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, she looks almost… content. “Yeah. I think she just knew,” Natasha replies softly, her hand brushing Callie’s hair from her face, the tenderness of the movement catching you off guard.
You can’t help the small, fond smile that curves your lips. There’s something so simple and raw about this moment—Callie nestled between the two of you like it was the most natural thing in the world. No hesitation. No fear.
“You’re really good with her,” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep, though there’s a genuine warmth to it. You don’t look at Natasha, but you feel the shift when her gaze turns toward you—soft, vulnerable.
“I want to be,” Natasha replies, and for once, there’s no cockiness in her tone. Just raw honesty. “If you’ll let me.”
You shift slightly, careful not to wake Callie, but you can feel her body shift with you. Natasha does the same, adjusting her position just enough so that the three of you are closer, her body becoming a barrier between you and the rest of the world.
And as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of your daughter’s tiny body and Natasha’s quiet presence, you realise—maybe it’s not fixed yet, and maybe it never will be in the way you want it to be. But this? This moment is something new, something different. Something worth holding onto.
A few moments pass before Callie shifts again, mumbling something inaudible in her sleep, her tiny fingers curling against Natasha’s chest. Natasha looks at you, and despite the uncertainty still lingering between you both, she gives you a small, tentative smile.
“I think… I think we’re going to be okay,” Natasha says, barely above a whisper, as if she’s not sure if it’s too much to say yet.
You meet her gaze, the weight of those words hanging between you, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe—just maybe—there’s hope.
“Yeah,” you reply softly. “Maybe we are.”
Callie’s small form stirs under the blankets, her little hands reaching out for you even in her sleep. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know you’re right there. It’s like she’s drawn to you, an instinctive pull toward comfort. Her sleepy whine is soft, almost like a kitten’s, as she stretches out and finally blinks awake.
“Mummy?” Her voice is thick with sleep, but she’s already sitting up, rubbing at her eyes with chubby little fists.
“Morning, sweetie,” you murmur, brushing her hair from her face. “Ready for pancakes?”
Her face lights up at the mention of her favourite breakfast. “Pancakes!” she shouts, clearly excited, and it makes you smile. She’s already up and rushing toward the door, her little feet padding quickly across the floor as she makes her way toward the kitchen.
You watch her go, a soft smile playing on your lips. There’s something so simple and pure about her joy over the small things.
You stretch, turning toward Natasha, who’s sitting up on the couch, watching the two of you with quiet interest. Her eyes flick to yours, and she looks almost… uncertain, like she’s not sure what to do next. The moment you notice her, you can’t help but soften, feeling a pull to her you can’t deny. She looks tired, but there’s a softness in her gaze that’s completely unfamiliar, almost like she’s finding her place in this new world with you and Callie.
“Coming?” you ask, your voice low and casual, as if the three of you don’t have a complicated past.
She nods, but there’s a pause before she finally gets up and follows you toward the kitchen.
Callie is already up on the counter, swinging her legs, looking far too small to be sitting there. You glance at Natasha as you move past her, gesturing to the coffee pot with a knowing smile. “Help yourself,” you offer, before focusing on the task at hand.
You open the pantry, pulling out the pancake mix, measuring cups, and eggs. Your movements are automatic, but your eyes flick toward Natasha, who’s standing a little unsure by the table, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve as she watches Callie.
“Do you need help?” she asks softly, her gaze flicking back to you for a moment.
You smile, a little more guarded than you’d like, but you nod. “You can grab the food colouring, actually. It’s in the cupboard by the fridge.”
Her brows furrow slightly as she walks over to the cupboard, reaching for the small bottle of pink food colouring. “Pink?” Natasha’s voice is a mix of curiosity and confusion, and you can’t help but chuckle under your breath.
“Yeah,” you reply, mixing the batter in the bowl. “She won’t eat normal pancakes unless they’re pink. She’s been like that since she was a baby.”
Natasha’s eyes widen for a second, her lips curling slightly as she watches you with a soft, amused expression. “That’s… a little strange, but kind of cute.” She pauses, her fingers hovering over the bottle of food colouring. “How do you… how do you get her to eat them?”
You pause for a second, looking down at the batter, before glancing up at Natasha. “You have to make it a game. Tell her it’s magic, and then she’s all in. Pink pancakes are basically an unspoken rule at this point.”
Natasha watches you with a softness in her eyes that makes your heart flutter a little, the quiet affection clear as she’s fully focused on your words. She looks down at Callie, who’s now humming to herself as she kicks her legs off the counter, almost oblivious to the world around her as she plays with a spoon.
“Can I help with the syrup?” Natasha asks, her voice tentative, still unsure of her place in this little domestic scene.
You turn to her, smiling a little more gently now. “Of course. It’s in the cupboard, top shelf. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”
As you continue to work, flipping pancakes and adjusting the heat, your eyes can’t help but flicker back to Natasha every now and then. She’s awkward at first, reaching for the syrup and spilling a little, but when she catches Callie trying to steal a sprinkle of sugar from the counter, her face softens. Natasha picks it up with such ease, so natural, that it makes your chest tighten.
It’s simple—the way she crouches down to Callie’s level, speaking softly, her voice gentle and warm, as though she’s been doing this forever.
“Careful with that, kiddo,” Natasha murmurs, her hand hovering protectively over Callie’s. There’s a smile on her lips, and for the first time, it’s genuine, not forced. It’s so different from the Natasha you remember, the one who once told you she didn’t know how to love. Now, though, with Callie, there’s no hesitation. No walls. Just the ease of a person who’s figured out how to care.
You move silently around them, flipping the last of the pancakes, your heart a little fuller than it was before. You never expected this. You never expected Natasha to step in like this, to be what Callie needs without hesitation.
“You good?” Natasha asks, looking up at you from where she’s sitting next to Callie, who’s now holding a spoon and making pretend stirrings in a bowl that she’s already claimed as her own.
You nod, turning off the stove and placing the pancakes onto a plate. “Yeah. Just—this is new. All of it.”
Her eyes soften as she watches you. “I know,” she says quietly, almost too softly. “But it’s nice, don’t you think?”
You glance at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes. You can’t help but feel a flicker of hope, that maybe—just maybe—this is the start of something different between the three of you.
“I think so,” you reply, the words feeling heavier than they should. But for now, you don’t want to overthink it. Not when there’s pancake syrup and tiny giggles to focus on.
Callie grabs a pancake, holding it up triumphantly. “I did it!” she announces, as if she’s just won a prize. Natasha grins, her eyes warm as she watches your daughter with a fondness you didn’t expect.
“Good job, kiddo,” Natasha says with a quiet laugh, her voice holding a hint of pride. And you can’t help but think, maybe this is how it starts—the three of you, carving out this new life together, step by tiny, cautious step.
Word count: 9.1k (I warned you! There's a lot of plot and a lot of smut happening)
Notes: I had a hard time writing this at first because I wanted to get the beginning right. I had an angsty continuation in mind even before I posted the first part. Sorry to anyone who wanted fluff!
Part 1
"We'd love for you to join us from time to time."
"So, like a friends with benefits situation?"
"Sure, or rather roommates with benefits I guess?"
You cum with a scream, your whole body shaking as your orgasm ripples through you. For a couple of minutes you just lie on the bed, catching your breath and getting your bearings back. Both Leah and Alessia are in a similar state, breathing deeply on each side of you.
When you feel like you can walk again, you slowly get up. "I'm gonna clean up." Both women nod sleepily at your statement, apparently not ready yet to get up themselves.
You pee and clean up, very ready to rest and sleep as it is pretty late for you who has to get up way earlier than the other two to go to work. They always have a later start in the day with how their training schedule is set up while you have a job in an office and need to be there on time for your first meeting.
When you make your way back to Leah's room to crawl into bed with the other two women again, you find the door closed. You stop and stare at it for a bit, confused. The closed door is not something you're used to, usually Leah's door is always open for you especially after sex.
You take the closed door as a sign to not disturb them and slowly make your way to your own room which is only one door down. There, you pull on some pyjamas and lie down in your own bed. It feels weird to sleep alone after having sex with Leah and Alessia, you usually sleep in-between them, sometimes cuddling a bit but at least feeling them close to you.
Sleep doesn't come easy to you, your thoughts keep circling around the other two women and why they closed the door on you. Apparently, they wanted to be left alone by you and just be by themselves as a couple. That thought hurts you deeply and you feel tears prickling in your eyes.
You don't really know why you got yourself in the friends with benefits situation with Leah and Alessia in the first place. They had proposed it after the first time you had sex with them and for some reason you accepted. You knew about your little crush for both of them beforehand but somehow you had convinced yourself that it would be totally fine and you could handle it.
It's becoming very clear that it isn't totally fine and you can't handle it.
Of course, you've enjoyed having regular sex again, the benefits part of this friends with benefits thing has definitely been working in your favor. The sex with them is great, you share quite a few preferences and even some kinks, and thus you've been enjoying yourself immensely. But you know that you've started to crave a little more.
You love having their attention on you during sex and you got used to sleeping between them afterwards as well. That they’re now taking the second part away hurts. It just shows you how much you've been lying to yourself. They're a couple and you're just a third person they sometimes have sex with when they want something a little different.
The tears are now streaming down your face as you let your thoughts wander further. You've created this bubble for yourself, since you're roommates with Leah, you all had movie nights or breakfast together which gave you the illusion of this being something it apparently isn't. You're not a part of their relationship no matter how many lines you all blurred or how much it felt like it at times. That realization is hitting you hard, you're in much deeper than you thought you were.
Before sleeping with them, you could just brush your light crush on them away and weren't too invested in them and their life, but that's different now. You’ve got a glimpse at life with them. And the two women you’ve got feelings for keeping you out of the bedroom hurts much more than you could've anticipated even though it's something that was normal until a couple of weeks ago. Now it feels like a rejection.
The worst part is that you know that all of this is slightly irrational. They've asked you to be their friend with benefits, not their girlfriend. Them spending time together without you is normal and up until now it hasn't hit you this hard. Of course sometimes in the past couple of weeks it felt weird when you knew they were at Alessia's place or out on a date together, but somehow you could always tune the jealous and hurt thoughts out.
Now, it seems like you've hit your breaking point. Probably because this time it was an active exclusion by them closing the door. Both literally and figurately.
You decide that you need to stop sleeping with them to protect yourself. Your feelings for them are already way too deep and you know you need to step back for your own sanity and well-being.
In the morning, you text the group chat with them.
You: I don't want to keep sleeping with you anymore, sorry.
You: I'll also have a big project at work so I won't be home a lot, I hope we can go back to just being friends
Leah: Okay? Did something happen?
Alessia: :(
Alessia: It's your decision of course, just know that we're always open if you ever regret the decision
After your messages, you put your phone on silent and go to work. You don't see their messages until much later but decide against answering them. Your group chat remains with you leaving them on read for now.
You actually do have a big project that will keep you at work for longer than usual which you welcome with open arms. It wasn't a lie that you won't be home a lot, it's just coming at a very convenient time for you.
For the next two weeks, you spend a lot of time at work, going in early, staying late, putting in a lot of effort which earns you quite a few compliments from your bosses. You also go for a drink with your friends who have been asking about spending some time together but you had blown them off a few times in favor of spending the evening getting railed by Leah and Alessia. Now you accept their invitation and meet your friends at a bar. But they grill you about your situation with Leah and Alessia the whole evening, so you decline the next time they ask you, not wanting to talk or think more about them than necessary.
Working so much doesn't fulfil you in any way, but it keeps you occupied for the moment. And that just has to be enough for now.
Because if you give yourself time to slow down, you’d just miss them too much. Of course you miss them anyways. You know it was the right decision to end things with them and keep your distance after, especially seeing just how much you miss them now. It tells you a lot about your feelings and how deep you've already fallen for them. If you got any more emotionally invested, it would only hurt more in the long run than it already does now. You can't chase after a couple in a happy relationship.
You only see the two of them in passing. Since you're working so much, you're rarely home and they're in a busy part of their season as well, going on away trips all over Europe which works in your favor as well.
One Friday evening, you're already in your room, when they get home after a late game they had. You hear them in front of your door, it seems like they're debating whether to knock or not. With hushed voices they decide to leave you alone since it's already late and they guess you're already sleeping anyway. You're thankful for that.
You're about ready to go to sleep when you hear some muffled moans coming from next door. That's nothing new, you've heard them having sex in the past, you just hadn't in a while. Probably because you were usually included.
You lie in your bed, trying to block the sounds out. Now that you know them intimately, you can distinguish which moans belong to who, which makes it much harder to ignore. Your head is absolutely betraying you and you start to imagine what they're doing.
And apparently your body decides to betray you as well as you feel yourself getting wet. Listening to them having sex is so hot and such a turn on for you. You shift a bit on your bed, willing for them to finish and let you sleep.
Of course, that's not happening, you're just unlucky like that. Almost involuntarily, you feel your hand lightly stroke over your stomach, right at the hem of the shorts you're sleeping in. Before you can think about it being wrong or a bad idea, you slip your hand into your panties. Your fingers slowly run through your wet folds as you listen to Leah cum in the room next door.
You start to circle your clit with slow movements, feeling yourself getting more worked up. You haven't had an orgasm in more than two weeks after having sex multiple times a week before that. Safe to say, your body is craving to cum. While it's now more of Alessia's moans that fill your ears, you bring yourself close to orgasm and then cum right before Alessia seems to be cumming as well. You hear Leah's voice then, but can't make out what she's saying, just that she's talking. It sounds all soothing and relaxing.
As you pull your fingers out of your panties, you realize that there are tears running down your face. You wipe your juices off your fingers on some tissues and then turn around in your bed, crying yourself to sleep.
The next morning, you sleep in, it's a Saturday and it's the first day in a long time with a clear schedule for you. Since Leah and Alessia had a game the evening before, you assume they're going to recovery and then hang out with some friends, like they usually do.
So, you get up very late, a glance at the clock tells you it's pretty much noon already, and make your way to the bathroom. The apartment is indeed empty, just like you had predicted.
You plan on having some late breakfast after your shower and then going to the park with your book for some quiet time. You know you can't run from actually seeing Leah and Alessia for longer than five minutes for much longer. It's getting exhausting to always check if they're there and stay out for as long as possible.
Maybe you should search for a new apartment.
You're just towelling your hair in the open door of the bathroom when you hear the frontdoor. You freeze as you weren't expecting them back, usually the recovery session takes longer the day after they had a game.
You hear their voices before you can see them and then they stop in their tracks when they round the corner.
"Oh, hi!" Alessia breaks the silence, smiling softly at you. "We hoped that we would catch you."
Your eyebrows shoot up. What's that supposed to mean?
You lower your hands from your head and realize that you're still only in your bra and some shorts. Suddenly, you feel quite exposed even though they've both seen you naked.
"Y- you did?"
"Yes, can we talk?" Leah asks. You try and fail to read her expression, wanting to know what to expect.
"Um, I was going to go to the park..." You trail off at the now unimpressed look on Leah's face. Alessia just looks a little sad.
"But I can do that later?" You ask more than anything. "Let me just throw a shirt on."
You flee the situation and make your way to your room. You throw on a shirt quickly but then sit down on your bed just to calm down. It's weird, you've seen them from time to time but there was never much of an interaction, and now they want to talk to you for some reason. Maybe Leah has come to the same conclusion as you and wants you to move out? Or she is moving to Alessia's place? It's gotta be something along those lines, right? What else could it be?
After a couple of minutes you don't know if you can stay in your room for much longer. It'll look weird or suspicious if you do. You don't know if you've actually calmed down but you don't really have a choice, you already told them you'd talk to them.
You make your way to the kitchen carefully. You hear someone rummaging around but they're not talking. You enter the kitchen and can see Leah sitting at the table, while Alessia is currently cutting some lemons to put into the water bottle next to her. There are three glasses on the table already.
Leah looks up at you and tightly smiles. She gestures to one of the chairs for you to take a seat in.
Just a few moments later, Alessia sits down as well and pours all of you some water. You look at the two of them, trying to gauge the general mood. It's tense to say the least.
"Alright." You try to appear as confident as possible, not wanting to show them how nervous they make you. You lean back in your chair, hoping to appear relaxed. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Well-" Alessia starts but gets interrupted by Leah.
"Why did you end things with us? And then also just disappeared off the face of earth?"
Your eyes widen. This is bad. How do you explain that to them without giving away your feelings?
"Leah!" Alessia looks absolutely bewildered now. "We said, we would-" She interrupts herself. "We just wanted to know if either of us did anything to upset you or make you feel uncomfortable, did we push any of your boundaries during sex? Like Leah so eloquently put it, one day everything was fine and then you just texted us and that was it?"
You're not really sure what to say. You stare blankly ahead, trying to sort your thoughts.
"Hey, are you still with us?" Leah interrupts your thoughts running wild.
"Huh? Yeah, sorry. I spaced out. Um- you didn't make me uncomfortable. Like nothing happened during sex that I didn't want or anything like that, don't worry."
You can see that that was a legitimate worry for both of them. While Leah seemed more mad than worried, at least in the way she talked to you, her shoulders seem less tense now and both their eyebrows unfurrow a bit.
"Okay, that's good, that's good." Alessia keeps the conversation going. "We were a bit worried about that, you know? Because you just ended things so suddenly and you didn't give us a reason?"
"Do I need to give you a reason?" You hate how defensive your voice sounds but you can't help it.
"Well, after you just sent us a text, which was already pretty rude in my eyes, it would be common courtesy, don't you think?" Leah sounds mad again and you instantly recoil. They must be able to see it on your face because Alessia instantly reprimands Leah who in turn looks a bit apologetic.
"Sorry." She mumbles. "It's just confusing for us and we were worrying if you were okay and you just disappeared pretty much. I mean we're roommates and have been friends for a while now, I just thought it would be different."
You shrug, not knowing what to say without telling them the truth.
"We were a little hurt by you just ending things like that, babe." Alessia smiles tightly but you tense at her using the term of endearment. Clearly, both of them notice and furrow their brows again.
"Sorry if that made you uncomfortable!" Alessia immediately continues. "If you have someone new, that's good for you of course."
Neither of them look like they'd be happy for you though.
"I don't have anyone else." You sigh, still not knowing how to get out of the situation.
"But then, why-?" Leah starts but Alessia kicks her and Leah yelps slightly but then continues. "No, Less, let me talk."
She turns to you again. "I just want you to understand that it really wasn't cool to just text us that you were ending things and then pretty much ghosting us even though we live together. We're adults, we can have an adult conversation and don't need to behave like teenagers. I thought you cared about us."
"I do." You say softly before you can stop yourself.
Leah's expression is once again unreadable while Alessia looks much softer and more understanding. She nods at you, trying to encourage you to keep talking.
"I'm sorry if I made you worry. That wasn't my intention." You look directly at Alessia, it seems easier to talk to the friendlier face of the two.
"I didn't know you cared so much though." You shrug.
"What?" Leah practically spits and Alessia is back to looking hurt again. Great.
"I mean, why is it such a big deal? I was just your little plaything you had until it got boring. So now that you know that you didn't make me uncomfortable, you have a clear conscience and can move on, I guess. I don't understand why we need to keep talking about it." You shrug, trying to act as if your own words don't hurt.
Alessia has her lips pressed together and her eyes clearly tell you that your words hurt her as well. Leah puts her hand on Alessia's thigh under the table and leans towards you.
"Plaything?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Did we give you the impression that we were just using you for sex?" Alessia's voice sounds strained as she talks.
"I mean- you wanted a friend with benefits right? And then when you closed the door I took the clear sign and didn't try to force myself into something nobody wanted." You shrug again but you also know that you're biting your lower lip, almost making it bleed, just like you always do when you're nervous.
"What?" Both Leah and Alessia look at you with confused faces. "Who closed which door?"
"Um, the last time we slept together?" You mumble, it doesn't feel great to relive the memory especially because it seems that they didn't care enough to remember.
"I went to clean up and then you closed the door before I had the chance to come back. I took that as a clear sign that I had overstayed my welcome."
"No..." Alessia looks at you in disbelief. "I didn't close the door, did you?" She turns to Leah who also shakes her head. "We didn't close the door, babe. We never would have." She looks into your eyes, clearly trying to communicate her sincerity. Her hand reaches over the table and out to yours but she hovers a bit away from yours and you don’t take the initiative to let your hands touch.
Everything comes crashing down at you now. What do they mean they didn't close the door?
"B- but the door was closed... I thought that was you saying I should sleep in my own bed." You feel tears in your eyes again. You've already cried so much over this in the last weeks but apparently, you still have tears left.
"I was so hurt that I ended things the next morning." You take a breath to calm yourself down. "I was only trying to protect myself."
Leah and Alessia both stare at you with open mouths and wide eyes.
"So you wouldn't have ended things if the door hadn't closed? I guess it might've shut because I opened the window?" Leah asks.
"I would've still ended things sooner or later." You look at them more open now. "Noticing how much the closed door hurt me, made me realize that I couldn't go on like that. Don't you understand? I had to protect myself, being only a friend with benefits isn't something I can do anymore."
"Babe..." Alessia trails off and while the pet name still hurts somewhat, you can suppress a reaction. "We wanted to ask you on a date before you ended things."
It's your turn to look at them with wide eyes now.
"You what?"
"We wanted to ask you out for real. That's why we were so hurt that you ended things over text." Leah explains. "We realized that it wasn't enough to only sometimes have sex with you, we want you with us permanently. As an equal part of the relationship."
You look at them completely surprised, you didn’t think you’d ever hear them say that.
“We don’t want to overwhelm you.” Alessia clearly notices that you’re a bit out of your depth. “Maybe we can just start by spending the day together? As a relaxed first date?”
“Yes!” Leah jumps in. “You said you want to go to the park right? Maybe we can go together, walk around a bit, maybe get an ice cream or something? If that’s alright with you of course. If you don't want that or this all is too fast, we totally understand as well.”
“Um-” You’re still a bit speechless. “I need to go back just one step, please? You want to go on a date and then ideally for me to enter your relationship fully? Like as an equal third person?”
They both smile at you softly and nod. “Yes, I, we, like you a lot and would very much like that.”
While Leah’s words are still a little crazy to you, you can’t stop the smile forming on your face. “Okay…”
“Okay?” Alessia prompts.
“Okay, let’s go to the park and take a walk. I think we should talk about a couple of things.”
The three of you do a lot of talking that afternoon. As you walk around the park, you talk in depth about how a relationship could work, how communication between all three of you has to be, especially with two of you already living together and two working together. You talk about your fear of not being enough and being an outsider in the relationship. Much like everyone who is about to enter a new relationship, Leah and Alessia each have their own fears that they then bring up. It helps to hear their fears and doubts, they always seem so self-assured that you couldn’t have imagined this.
All in all, it’’s a good afternoon. The three of you always seem to be touching in some ways, sometimes they will both have an arm around you and sometimes it’s just one. There’s also lots of handholding and hands on thighs when you all sit on a bench. It feels good to you, right. You talk about them giving you a bit of extra attention at the moment because of how things went and that it will obviously not go on like that, if the three of you want an equal relationship.
You’re absolutely fine with it, even though you do enjoy the extra attention on you right now. But then again, you have been deprived of them and their attention for a couple of weeks now so you have some making up to do. There are no kisses being exchanged, Leah and Alessia’s relationship isn’t even known to the general public, surely none of you want to out yourselves.
That doesn’t stop your thoughts from running wild though. While the three of you sit on a bench overlooking a lake, not really talking, just enjoying each other’s presence, your thoughts start to wander. Leah’s arm is placed around your shoulders while Alessia’s hands are holding one of yours. Your other hand is placed on Leah’s thigh.
You get lost in how big Alessia’s hands look compared to yours. It makes you think about the feeling of her hands all over you. Conveniently, Leah’s arm tightens around you in that exact moment as if she knows what you’re thinking about. You remember how it feels to have Leah’s arms around you, holding you down when they’re fucking you.
With your hand placed on Leah’s thigh, you can only imagine how close you are to her cock…
Alessia pulls you out of your thoughts by clearing her throat. “What’s got you so deep in thought then? Anything we forgot before and still need to discuss?”
You almost feel bad then that Alessia immediately thought about your well-being and your relationship. You shake your head no to appease her. When you look over to her, there’s still a small frown on her face though.
“Don’t worry, Less.” You smile. “It was nothing, really.”
“It wasn’t nothing, you were so deep in your thoughts.” Alessia protests. “You don’t have to share of course, I just want you to really understand that you can.”
Leah hums, trying to voice her support without interrupting Alessia.
“Well, I got a little lost in my thoughts about you guys. Nothing bad, I just really missed you and then I let myself really feel both of your hands on me and I got carried away thinking about how and where you’ve touched me before.” You shrug.
“Wait, you got horny and here was I worrying about you?” Alessia stares at you with wide eyes. When you nod she lets out an exasperated laugh.
“Sue me? Have you both looked at yourselves? I haven’t been fucked in almost three weeks now.”
Leah’s hand on your shoulder stops her movements and she sits up a little more. “Well, we could change that if you feel like you’re ready for that step?”
Even though you love them for giving you the opportunity to slow things down and do them at your pace, you chuckle at their caution.
“Thanks for saying that.” You look at each of them to make your point clear. “How about we go home though?” You grin cheekily at them before you stand up. You turn around and look down at them both still sitting on the bench. “I can’t wait for you two to fuck me and feel you inside of me again.”
When you get home, the air around you is charged, it had been torture to sit on the tube together without being able to do anything. You refrained from touching either of the two women in any way, too afraid that you wouldn’t be able to hold back if you started.
You take off your shoes and have Alessia immediately on you. She pushes you against the wall and closes the remaining gap between you. Her lips are as soft as you remember them, even though they move against yours very demandingly. She brushes her tongue against your lower lip and you of course open your mouth to let her in. Your hands fall to her hips and you squeeze her lightly, eliciting a moan from the other woman. Your tongues move against and around each other, giving you a taste of what’s to come.
Alessia pulls away when you’re both in need of air. She stays close though, her hands still on your shoulders, and for a few seconds you’re both heavily breathing the same air. You’re about to close the gap again, when you feel a hand on your face, your chin specifically.
Leah redirects your face towards her own. She kisses you deeply, not waiting for you to invite her in but rather plunging her tongue into your mouth immediately, just like you remember her doing. You breath in harshly through your nose and let Leah take over. It’s reminding you a lot of the first time you've slept with them, you also kissed Alessia first until Leah took over.
When she pulls away, her hand is still holding your chin. Her grip isn’t too rough but it’s also not soft by any means. You love it.
“How about you go to the bedroom and get ready for us, pretty girl? Hmm, I want you naked on the bed.” She turns to look at Alessia next to the two of you. “What do you say, Less?”
Alessia is already unbuttoning her own shirt but looks up from her task and at you. “Lie down on the bed and wait for us, alright, baby?”
You nod and quickly make your way to Leah’s room. Just like they asked you to, you take off your clothes, folding them neatly and making a small pile on the chair in the corner. When you’re completely naked, you lie down on the bed, on your back, waiting for Leah and Alessia. You can feel how wet you already are, just from the thought of them finally fucking you again.
Wanting to give them as much of a show as possible, you spread your legs a bit more. They should be able to see how wet you already are for them when they get to the room.
You lie there patiently for only a couple of minutes, the anticipation building inside of you.
“Look at you, all nice and ready for us.” Leah says and your head shoots up, you were lost in your own thoughts again and didn’t notice them standing in the doorway. They’re both naked, their semi-errect cocks on full display. You stare at them, they’re both so hot but so non-chalant about it. You let our eyes wander from their faces to their tits, all round and perky, down their upper bodies, with their abs on full display, and to their cocks. Both of their cocks look just as glorious as you remember, you can’t wait for them to finally fill you again.
“Want to be a good girl for you.” You murmur.
“Oh, you already are, baby, our good girl.” Alessia smiles and walks fully into the room, Leah right behind her. You moan and blush at her praise.
They stand next to each other at the foot of the bed, just looking you over, pretty much the same as you just did when they were in the doorway. You squirm a little under their appreciative gazes, wanting them to come closer but that doesn’t seem to be happening yet.
“So wet already.” Leah’s gaze is fixed onto your cunt and you’re happy to have spread your legs a bit more for her to see. “You’re glistening all prettily.”
“Is that all for us, baby?” Alessia asks.
“All for you.” You moan. “I’m so wet for the two of you, so ready for you to fuck me”
They both start to slowly stroke their cocks, eyes locked onto your body. You start to tease your own tits and nipples a bit, to do something while they look you over.
You can see the effect their hands have on their cocks as they both slowly appear to get harder. You whine, which makes them interrupt their movements.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I wanna make you hard.” You complain. “You’re doing it yourselves, let me do it, please?”
They both chuckle. “Such an eager girl.” You nod, because yeah, for them you definitely are. You’ve never been as eager and submissive as you are with these two, they just bring out this side of you.
“Come here then.” Leah prompts and you immediately start to crawl over to the edge of the bed where they’re still standing. You kneel on the bed in front of them and reach out to both their cocks. You can feel them twitching in your hands as you close your hands around them. You start to slowly stroke them, looking up to Leah and Alessia for approval.
Both of them have their eyes locked on the other’s cock in your hand which somehow makes it all even hotter. You then beckon them even closer so that you’re able to get your mouth on their cocks.
You kiss the tip of Leah’s cock first and feel it jump a little at the sensation. You keep your hand moving over Alessia’s cock while running your tongue along the underside of Leah’s cock. Then you take her tip inside of your mouth and suck while your hand is stroking what doesn’t fit in your mouth. You feel Leah’s hand on your cheek, softly caressing you. “Doing such a good job, baby.”
Before either of you can get too much into it, you hear Alessia speak up. “My turn.”
You feel her hand on your head and let go of Leah’s cock with a pop. You notice proudly that she seems pretty hard now. Alessia pushes forward and you open your mouth to invite her in. This time you keep stroking Leah’s cock with your other hand. Alessia’s hand stays on the back of your head but she doesn’t push or direct you, instead she lets you set the pace for now.
You bob your head on Alessia’s cock, taking in as much of her as you can. She isn’t as long as Leah, so you can go a bit further, but she’s girthier. Your mouth is opened so wide that it almost hurts your jaw. But you’re quickly rewarded for your effort as you can feel her cock grow harder in your mouth which sends a wave of arousal through your body. Pleasing them turns you on immensely.
Letting go of Alessia’s cock with a similar pop as before, you look up at them, waiting for any instructions. Leah’s hand comes to your cheek again and she softly runs her thumb over your skin.
“Get on your hands and knees for us, baby.”
Immediately, you nod and comply, getting into the middle of the bed with your back towards them. You spread your legs a bit more than you’d need, just to give them a little show.
“Are you good, baby?” Leah checks in with you. She’s right behind you, running her hands over your hips and ass.
You nod.
“Words, baby.” Leah squeezes your ass at her own words.
“Yes, yes, I am.” You marvel at the feeling of Leah’s hands all over your backside. “Wanna feel you, feel your big cocks filling all my holes. Missed feeling your cum filling me up to the brink, dripping out and all over the sheets. F-fuck, missed you fucking me so much.” You’re babbling now, you know it, but they bring out this side of you and your own words turn you on as well.
Both Leah and Alessia hum at your words.
“Is that so, baby?” Alessia has walked around the bed and is now sliding up in front of you. She’s already on her knees so that her cock is right in front of your face again. For now her hand is stroking your face though, all tender and in stark contrast to your own words “Tell us more, pretty girl.”
You look up at her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, you’re breathing heavily just from the thought of finally getting fucked by them again.
“I missed feeling Leah fucking me deeper than anyone-” You feel the tip of Leah’s cock at your entrance now. She’s not pushing in or even moving her cock though, for now, it’s just lying against your folds. You push back a bit but her grip on your hips tightens to keep you in place, she makes a disapproving sound with her tongue.
You look into Alessia’s eyes again. “I missed your thick cock stretching me. Stretching me wider than I had felt before. I can’t wait to feel all of your cum inside of my cunt, mixing together and filling me up.”
Leah slides into your pussy then, interrupting your words as you let out a long moan instead. She starts to slide in and out of you at a pretty slow pace, letting you get used to her again. While her strokes are slow, she hits you deeply and with fervor, making you feel every inch of her cock.
“So tight, baby. I missed your tight cunt!”
“F-fuck! Feels so good, Leah!”
“Keep talking baby.” You apparently closed your eyes when Leah pushed into you as you now have to open them to look at Alessia again. She’s grinning down at you, her hand now around her cock and slowly stroking it once again.
“I- I want you to use me again, use my mouth, Less, use me. Don’t hold back.”
Alessia doesn’t have to be asked twice. “Open up then, baby. Show me your tongue.”
You open your mouth and of course stick out your tongue, flattened and ready for her cock. Her cock glistens with a mix of your saliva from before and her own precum that she’s spread all over with her hands. Alessia puts the bulbous head of her cock on your tongue, just letting it lie there for a few seconds. You slowly breathe through your nose, waiting in anticipation. Alessia once again buries her hand in your hair, a bit rougher than before, and nods. “Go on, suck my cock while Leah fucks you.”
Leah is still maintaining her slow and steady rhythm. But her hands are everywhere, you feel her run them over your hips and ass, sometimes she softly strokes your stomach, but she doesn’t go further and touches your clit in any way, it seems like she doesn’t want to give you too much too soon.
You leave openmouthed kisses all over the length of Alessia’s cock and then suck on her balls. You circle her tip with your tongue, knowing she likes the sensation, and sure enough, she moans at that.
When you repeat the process, her grip on your head tightens and she pushes more of her cock inside of your mouth. You close your lips around her cock and bob your head back and forth while simultaneously sucking.
You get lost in the feeling of Leah filling your cunt and Alessia filling your mouth. Their cocks filling you from both ends feels so good to you. You could just stay like this for a long time but it seems like the other two have a different idea.
“What do you say baby, how about we let Leah set the pace, hmm?” Alessia asks which gets your attention.
You look at her a bit confused but then both of her hands hold your head and pretty much lock it in place so that you can’t move it on your own. Since Alessia isn’t moving either, her cock just sits in your mouth with no movement.
Leah’s hips stop moving as well. She then changes her grip on your hips and instead she grips your shoulderblades and moves you forwards and backwards. Her grip on your shoulders is the only thing to keep you moving between them. She times it so that you’re always filled on either end. When your cunt is sliding off Leah’s cock, your mouth is sliding down Alessia’s cock and vice versa. Now neither of the two women are moving at all, instead Leah just guides you to move between them, filling either end with each movement.
“Look at me.” Alessia demands and you look up at her with her cock in your mouth. “You’re such a good girl for us, baby, taking us both so well.”
Her praise makes you moan around her cock, sending vibrations through it and making her moan as well.
“Yes, babygirl, doing so well.” Alessia pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, almost tenderly. “I can’t wait to fill you up.”
You can see her eyes sparkle at the thought.
“Are you gonna take my load down your throat?”
You can’t answer but try to nod even though her hands are still holding your head still.
“Oh, you are, aren’t you?”
You whine, trying to communicate when it isn’t really possible.
“Shit, babe, I need to cum so bad.” Alessia looks over your shoulder to Leah. This makes Leah take her hands off your shoulders and on your hips again. Now, both women are in charge of their own pace again. Leah slowly increases her pace inside of your cunt.
You moan around Alessia’s cock at the thought of Leah hopefully releasing inside of you soon. You can feel her hitting your g-spot repeatedly now and know that it won’t take long until you cum from that.
Alessia keeps her hands around your face and bends down a bit, looking into your eyes. “I really need to cum, baby.”
With that, she holds your head still and then speeds up and thrusts her cock into your mouth unrelentingly. You open your throat a bit more to accommodate her and let her fuck your opened mouth. She groans with each thrust and you know she’s close to cumming.
You close your lips around her cock, wanting to help her cum. She groans appreciatively and then she thrusts her cock into your mouth, pressing her body closer to your face in the process of pushing deeper down your throat. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel her cumming in your mouth.
Alessia moans loudly as she cums. You swallow as much as you can but also feel some of her cum dripping out of your mouth and down your chin. She slowly pulls her cock out of your mouth and softly strokes your cheeks. “Good girl.”
While you feel Leah increasing her speed just a bit more, Alessia pulls your upper body a bit towards her and pushes her thumb over your chin, scooping up some of the mix of your spit and her cum that’s still there. She then kisses you deeply, tasting herself on your tongue.
“Gonna take my load just as well as Lessi’s?” Leah asks from behind you. You clench around her cock as an answer since Alessia still has her tongue buried in your mouth. You feel the knot in your core and know that you’re pretty close to your own orgasm as well.
“You are, aren’t you? You’re just so hungry for our cum, pretty girl. Such a good girl.”
Leah increases her pace just a tad more, making you moan into Alessia’s mouth which promptly breaks your kiss. Suddenly, Leah’s hand is on your clit, flicking it just once. This short sensation is enough to immediately send you over the edge though. You clench around Leah and cum with a loud moan. Your orgasm washes over you as Leah fucks you through it.
“F-fuuuck… oh god!”
Her pace is steady and fast, she’s still hitting you deeply. You clench around her cock again, wanting her to cum as well. You get your wish as she moans loudly above you and then cums with one deep and hard thrust. She buries herself inside of you, gripping your hips roughly. You feel her cum hitting your walls and filling you up. She maintains some movement for a bit but eventually stops.
All three of you are breathing deeply as you all get down from your orgasms. Alessia is the first one to find her bearings. She lies down right next to you, back against some of the pillows.
You feel Leah slowly sliding out of you, she pulls you up from your position on your arms and embraces you with her arms. She kisses you, moaning at the taste of Alessia’s cum on you.
Then Leah helps you to climb onto Alessia, straddling her waist. You hover over her, holding yourself up on your arms again.
“I can’t hold myself up much longer.” You whine a bit.
“Oh, poor baby, are your arms already sore?” Alessia asks. “Come here.” She opens her arms and you let your upper body fall into her with a relieved sigh. Your cunt still hovers over her cock but at least your arms are getting a break. Alessia’s arms close around you and her mouth immediately finds yours again.
Your tits rub against hers which feels great, especially both of your hardened nipples against each other.
Leah’s hand comes to your cunt and she lets her fingers glide through your pussy from behind. She collects some of her own cum and spreads it all over your pussy. She then guides your cunt to Alessia’s cock. Alessia’s tip sits at your entrance until Leah pushes you down onto her cock with no regards for adjustments. Alessia immediately bottoms out inside of you. You moan at the sensation, Alessia’s cock feels very different to Leah’s just minutes before.
“Wow, babygirl, you’re taking Alessia’s thick cock so, so well. Practically swallowing it.” Leah praises from behind of you. Alessia’s arms around you tighten. She holds you as she slowly starts to fuck up into you.You especially love the sensation of Alessia’s cock inside of your cunt that’s already filled with Leah’s seed. You can feel the cum sloshing around inside of you with each movement of Alessia’s cock.
“F-filling me so well.”
“She is, isn’t she?” You feel Leah’s hands on your ass again, stroking you in slow circles. She then starts to carefully tease your asshole. You feel her dripping some lube on there and then rubbing slow circles around your hole, easing you into the sensation. With some more lube, Leah is quickly able to push one finger into your ass, making you moan loudly at the new sensation.
Getting your asshole teased always feels so different, but so good as well.
Leah slowly pushes her finger in and out of you, loosening your asshole in the process.
You’re moaning uncontrollably now, both Alessia’s cock in your pussy and Leah’s fingers in and on your ass are a lot. While both women work with slow and deliberate movements, they still absolutely overwhelm you.
Leah pushes a second finger into your ass, having loosened your hole enough. She teasingly rubs her fingers along the edges, the sensation making you whimper against Alessia’s mouth. She has given up trying to kiss you as your moans make it impossible to maintain a kiss. Instead you just moan and whine against Alessia’s lips.
“Are you ready to take Leah’s cock as well, baby? She’s getting you all nice and ready for her.”
You nod against Alessia, completely overwhelmed by the two of them. “ ‘m ready.” You mumble. “W-wanna take you both. Missed you so mu-ch, wanna feel you all over me.”
“Yes, I think you’re ready for me, babygirl.” Leah tells you. Alessia immediately stops her movement and stills, her cock buried deep inside of you.
There’s some movement behind you and then you feel the head of Leah’s cock against your ass. She’s slowly stretching your hole even more by pushing her bulbous head in. You know that the head is always the biggest challenge. You wish you would’ve worn your plug today but you obviously hadn’t anticipated this turn of events in the morning.
You cry out at the sensation of your ass taking her head in but then you moan when she slowly pushes more of her cock inside of you. You feel stretched and open in all the right ways, loving taking the two of them at the same time.
Leah doesn’t move for a few moments and neither does Alessia, the two women letting you adjust. You feel Alessia pushing a strand of your hair out of your face again and Leah runs her hands soothingly over your shoulders. She pulls your upper body into more of an upright position, essentially making you sit on their cocks more.
When they decide you’ve had enough time to adjust, they slowly start to move. They set a counter-rhythm, one of them pushing in as the other pulls out of you. They’re both still very careful with their movements which you are grateful for.
After a few minutes of them fucking you like that, it isn’t enough anymore and you start to move yourself. They both quickly adjust and let you set the pace. You slowly start to move back against their cocks so that they both fill you at the same time, giving you a different sensation than before.
You feel so full with both of your holes stuffed with their cocks simultaneously and you love it. So far, you haven’t discovered anything that feels better than this. You moan loudly with each of your own thrusts on their cocks. Your thrusts aren’t deep or fast, but it’s just a lot anyways.
“You’re so cockdrunk baby, fucking yourself on both our cocks.” You don’t know who says it but it’s entirely true. You don’t even know that you made the decision to move on your own accord, you just started doing so because you needed both their cocks inside of you at the same time.
Leah’s hands come to your tits, massaging them and rubbing over your nipples from behind. Alessia is underneath you, leaving kisses on your neck or tits whenever she gets the chance. Both women are letting you do your thing for now though, enjoying the feeling. You don’t really register what they’re doing anymore, too engrossed in the feeling of their cocks inside of you.
You change your movements and start to fuck yourself on their cocks with longer and deeper strokes, still not fast by any means but their cocks hitting new spots deep inside of you with each of your movements. Your moans turn more into screams and cries now as you fuck yourself deeply on their cocks. Your movements get quicker, chasing your next orgasm as you feel it approaching deep in your core.
You throw your head back and cum with a loud scream, clenching around both of the cocks inside of you. Your movements aren’t as deliberate against them anymore but you manage to fuck yourself through your orgasm, with Leah’s hands on your upper body to stabilize you.
“You’re doing so well, babygirl. Rewarding yourself with an orgasm.”
Coming down from your high, you slow your movements again but don’t stop, you keep fucking yourself on the two big cocks of your now girlfriends. It’s almost as if you’re in a sort of trance, keeping your movements going.
They let you keep up the slow movements for a while, all three of you moaning along, enjoying the feeling of being connected. But clearly they both need to cum again as well.
“Let us take over again, baby. We’re gonna fuck you so well.” Leah tells you. Her mouth is so close to your ear that you feel her breath against it.
You only moan as an answer but that’s enough for Leah and Alessia. Their hips snap against yours with the same rhythm and pace, filling you up just like you had done for yourself. Their movements are just as deep and hard but quicker than you were before.
Their thrusts into you make a moaning and screaming mess out of you. Your moans don’t stop anymore, as you’re too overwhelmed from the two cocks ramming into you without abandon. You feel Leah finishing first and filling your ass with her cum. Alessia maintains her fast pace while Leah is slowly pulling out of you. She keeps the tip of her cock right on your hole, smearing the bit of cum that’s leaking out all over it.
Alessia cums with a loud groan and you feel her hot and thick cum hitting your walls and mixing with Leah’s cum that’s already in there from before. The feeling of your womb filled completely by both of their loads is so hot to you.
While Alessia is still buried deep inside of you, Leah hasn’t pushed in again. They’re both panting loudly, probably completely exhausted.
“One more.” You hoarsely mumble. “I haven’t cum again, I want one more, please.”
“I’m beat.” Leah tells you from behind.
“I’ll do all the work, please. Just push in and then I’ll fuck myself on you again, just one more, please.” You ramble. “Please, Leah.”
Of course, Leah slowly pushes into your asshole again, this time it’s much easier than it was before. You can feel the cum in both your cunt and your ass swirling around, adding to the sensation of their cocks inside of you.
Completely lost in the chase for another orgasm, you start to move again, both their cocks inside of you are still hard and you can just slide up and down their cocks like you did before. This time, your movements get faster and harder much quicker as you’re so overstimulated and already close to orgasm from them cumming inside of you. Your moans and the wet sounds coming from your cunt and ass are the only sounds in the room as you fuck yourself on Alessia and Leah’s cocks. They both watch you in absolute wonder, amazed by your willpower and stamina.
Your movements get sloppy as you near your orgasm but you keep up the thrusts albeit with less of a rhythm. You feel either of their cocks almost slipping out of you several times because of your sloppy movements but you manage to keep them inside of you. You almost sob when you get yourself over the edge once more. Your body shakes from this last orgasm and the overstimulation for your body.
You collapse onto Alessia, who welcomes you with open arms.
They both slide out of you slowly, very careful to not hurt you in any way. Leah lies down next to you and joins Alessia in soothingly stroking your back. You look directly into Leah’s eyes when you finally open yours again after coming down from your last orgasm.
“That was something, huh?”
You can only nod.
“You two stay here and I’ll go get a washcloth for now.”
Leah disappears from the room but quickly makes her way back with a bottle of water and a washcloth in her hand. She places the water on the nightstand and then carefully cleans you between your legs while Alessia leaves soothing pecks against your forehead and neck.
You close your eyes, feeling very cared for by the two women who caused you so much heartache over the last weeks.
(A Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader ~1.5K Word Oneshot) (NSFW: G!P; Face-Fucking; Lewd Language; Praise; Mommy Kink)
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Fuck, she felt good.
So good.
So heavenly. So right.
Even in the state she was in, moaning and huffing and growling with desire, head thrown back with her eyes bared to the ceiling. As though she was thanking the gods for your body and the pleasure you were willing to give her. No. Not give her. The pleasure you were willing to give up. That she was willing to take. Grasping your head in the way that she was, her knuckles turning red and bruised with the way she wedged them between your hair and the wall. Digging her fingers into your locks as though she’d make it to your skull if she pressed hard enough. Just keeping you there. Keeping you just right.
“Don’t move,” she panted earlier, her accent coming second to the raspy husk of her tone. So deep in pleasure she was- so lost to her own instincts.
Your poor lover. Your dear Larissa. She’d regret being so rough in a few hours, when you have trouble moving your neck and your throat is raw and scratchy - but you’ll comfort her as you always do and tell her that if she asked to do it again in a few days, you wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.
As it were, she didn’t even ask. The situation simply fell into both sets of your hands. Your pretty darling, unable to take care of herself after she got ready for the banquet, nearly out the door when the mental image of you in lingerie had her stumbling back to the bed and nearly ripping off her panties with haste to take her ecstasy into her own hands. And then you, walking into the room to grab her and greet the guests, only to find her on the side of the bed, rutting against her slim pretty fingers. She looked beautiful in her sweet flush-cheeked glory, but her palm was slippery and clumsy and she hadn’t gotten herself off in so long that you just had to help. How cruel it would have been to leave her like that.
And so, as you teased, came the escalation.
And so, as you moaned around her length, the true admittance of desire.
And so, your head pressed against the wall, your legs trembling and spread out in front of you, and the weight of her cock pressed against the back of your throat. Bullying it to bruise as she pumped her hips with unmatched strength and then held you there, her plush thighs quivering when your lips and nose pressed to the light curls at the base of her cock. Sheathing herself inside you, using you with a pathetic amount of need. Doubled over at the waist and eyes rolling back with an overwhelming- burning- amount of pleasure once your body’s instincts kick in and your throat squeezes the sensitive curve of her shaft. Constricting around her to the point where it makes you both ache and it makes your chest stutter and she’s forced to wrench herself away while pushing your head back against her fingertips, even though there’s nowhere else for you to go. Huffing and puffing and breathing so deeply while she watches you gasp for breath and shiver.
Eyes meeting while the spit from the red of your lips and the pink tip of her cock only spiderwebs and dips - not even destroyed by gravity before she’s pushing herself forward again and pressing herself to your mouth; waiting with desperate wanting eyes as you recover and open yourself up for her again. And again. And again - and again - and again. Over and over and over. Until your vision is blurred with tears, and your face is warm and stiff from some long dried and some still falling, collecting by your chin to mix with the drool that spills from your lips. A steady stream of your devotion, given and taken willingly - with enthusiastic consent as she pushed you against the wall and lined you up with her cock and you nearly fell over the edge on the spot; happy to help your darling lover. Happy to have her want you. Happy to please her and listen to her whines as she feels herself get close.
“P-please- right there- yes. T-take it. Take it. Deeper. Yesss.” Arching her back and clenching the muscles in her legs, making you moan with appreciation at the feel of her strength beneath your hands. Palms running over her calves and her shins and her thighs, desperate to make her feel good- so good. And letting your own eyes close when she leans over and whimpers, trying to control her breathing long enough to praise you. To tell you-
“Good- ungh- girl - fuck, oh gods- so- so good to me- f-for me… for- Mo-Mommy!” Both of your bodies humming with pure delight when she gives herself her honorable title, inhaling on a sharp breath before the most erotic moan slips out of her perfectly painted mouth. Red lips opening and closing, white teeth pressing together, hissing and growling as you tug her closer and keep her cock in your throat; the weight of it pressed to your tongue, the feel of it against the roof of your mouth as you try to swallow. All of it heavenly and soft and something divine as she slows down and eases herself in as far as she can go- until your chin brushes the softness of her balls and the tip of your nose prods the ticklish curls near her groin.
“Through your nose, darling,” she speaks slowly, softly, her beautiful chest rising and falling with short breaths as you do as told and take a moment to fight through the instinctive urge to gag. Allowing time to slow as you keep your eyes on hers and watch her nod while a slow smile crawls across her lips- unspoken praise falling from her as she hears and sees the way you inhale, inhale, inhale, hold it, and then exhale, exhale, exhale - your throat working around her cock while you train yourself to take it.
Always.
Any day.
Anywhere.
Your lower back numb from the feeling of sitting on the floor for so long, your panties ruined beyond belief as you leak and twitch and throb in tandem with your lover’s body, your brain fuzzy and your throat sore and your ears kind of ringing - but finding none of it matters when she looks down at you with wide eyes and feels you moan around her length and is suddenly pressing you so close, so hard, that you can’t breathe at all.
Drooling and groaning and whimpering as she pumps herself into your warm mouth, hips moving like mad with unchecked desire as her breath catches in her throat.
And you don’t even hesitate to nod, using your tongue to lap at the sides of her pretty cock as she moves, silently begging her to cum down your throat- hard and fast and pleasurable enough to see fucking stars- as tears build in your eyes. Blinking them away quickly, your nails digging into her thighs, your body in flames with ecstasy as she meets your gaze and her lips fall open and she whimpers your name in a small squeak while the thick of her cock twitches. Spasms. Folded over you, forehead nearly pressed to the wall, as she keeps you there- keeps you there- keeps you there-
-yes!
Yes!
Fuck Larissa! Fuck you feel so- so- good- god yes!
And a fulfilling, satisfying warmth spills down the back of your throat, fast and thick as she shudders and groans and feels the way you constrict around her when you swallow it all without pause. Like it’s second nature, taking it like your life’s fucking duty, such a good little cockslut for Larissa Weems as you close your eyes and ignore the tears and the drool and the burn and the numb and the desire and instead focus on the way she finally breathes with unparalleled relief. Knowing her sweet girl is there to take her cum whenever she wants- to feel her in her throat or around her fingers or her tongue or resting on her lips- always eager to be of service. To be a good girl and take your Mommy like the desperate little whore you are. Her chest filling with breath while the last of her climax runs through her body; her pretty cock twitching and throbbing with aftershocks until the last of her cum is lapped up and you’re pushing against her thighs - telling her with as much kindness as you can for her to step back so you don’t pass out. And when she does, shivering and taking her hands away from your head and gently leaning it against the wall to slide stray bits of hair back behind your ears, your own chest heaves with delight. Grateful for the air, savoring the last of her in your mouth- salty and human and all hers, and happy to remove your shaking hands from her thighs so you can reach up and wipe the spit from your mouth.
“You did so well for me darling,” you hear her hum a moment later. “You always do.”
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My fucking dream come true. Have a good day. Love you lots. - Rip x
Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)
(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore.
They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you.
Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety.
—
Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed.
Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby.
But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while...
Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh.
You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh.
It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to.
You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience?
Thinking about it gave you a headache.
For where was the point in wondering?
You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because-
Because-
Wait.
Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of…
“Fuck.”
You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right.
“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood.
You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill.
There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy.
“Help! Help!”
Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell.
A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength.
“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet.
In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.
“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.
The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you.
Too late.
You were too late.
And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead.
Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage.
Too late.
You were too late.
You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed.
But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you.
Something–a sound–made you freeze.
It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement.
Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag.
Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did.
The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then-
“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap.
“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere.
You shook your head.
“Words. Use them.”
“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle.
“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life.
“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.
“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.”
“And the others?”
You blinked. “Others? What oth-”
“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent.
Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in.
“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.”
The gun still didn’t move.
“They don’t ambush. What really happened?”
Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away.
But you didn’t.
You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures.
So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth.
“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.”
“How long since?”
“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own.
“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned.
Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.
“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-”
Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world.
“-we can’t just leave them-”
“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”
“-not stupid. We need more people-”
Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window.
“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone.
With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.
“Woah-”
“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?”
The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told.
“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade.
But she didn’t move.
It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak.
“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed.
Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went.
“More like a rat.”
And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.
You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you.
“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot.
With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest.
You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked.
“Um- thank you for-”
“Shoot them.”
“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched.
“You heard me. Shoot them.”
“Pha-”
“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?”
“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off.
“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”
You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude.
“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact.
Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming.
“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers.
“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-”
“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return.
“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view.
As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.
—
“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep.
Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun.
“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word.
Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you.
“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass.
The grass.
You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-
oh.
Oh.
You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit.
How fucking lucky were you?
“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance.
Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that.
After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger.
—
“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead.
It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.
Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.
“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches.
Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her.
“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms.
The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.
“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall.
You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps.
“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority.
“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline.
The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck.
“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up.
“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.”
“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group.
“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself.
That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.
“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway.
Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue.
“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.”
Lucifer? Naked under the what?
You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were…
“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?”
“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?”
“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.”
“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.
“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”
“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.
“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.
“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?”
Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.
Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body.
“Okay. Yes. Sure.”
“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider.
“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors.
You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you.
“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes.
Red lips twitched.
“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.”
“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.
“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.
“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.
“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.
You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up.
“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.”
You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat.
“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully.
You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right.
Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat.
“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.”
A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard.
“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through.
“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang.
“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.”
“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips.
Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done.
“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time?
“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa.
“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?”
Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded.
“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted.
“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.”
Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath.
“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.
“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it.
And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you.
Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence.
“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.
“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.”
She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.”
You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened.
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow.
It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away.
“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.
At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering.
“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant.
Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand.
“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.”
It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x
Warnings: pure smut, mommy kink, Larissa shape shifts her vagina to a dick, mommy dom Larissa, rough sex, overstimulation, begging, humiliation, I’m sorry if I forgot any!
Summery: Larissa finds a book you’re currently reading lying around. Imagine her surprise when we realizes it’s a BDSM story.
“Love can you come here for a moment?” Larissa’s voice rang out from the living room.
I padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs to Larissa.
“Yes what’s up?” I smiled rounding the corner.
My smile dropped when I realized what she had in her hand. My book. The book I had been looking for all morning. Fuck!
“Looking for something?” She smiled down at me.
“Yes actually thank you!” I smiled trying to play cool reaching for my book but she pulled it up higher out of my reach.
“You’ve been very engrossed in this book all week, care to share what it’s about?”
“It’s a… love story.” I wasn’t technically lying.
“Mm love? I mean I suppose you aren’t completely wrong but my finding found more than just love.” She smirked.
“You read it?!” I gasped.
“Part of it, I wanted to see what had you attention so intently and now I know. You’re just a little whore all the time. Do you read this and wait for me to fuck the ache out of you?” She pressed.
“Rissa please.” I put my face in my hands embarrassed.
“Oh no darling I quite like this one. Would you like some first hand experience?”
I couldn’t help the shocked look on my face as I peer up at her. “You mean… do what they do?”
“I mean why not, I’ve never pushed for this kind of play in the bedroom because I didn’t want to push my little bunny over the edge but from the looks of it, I think you’d like it.
All it took was me nodding my head and she was in character.
“Kneel.” She commanded and I was quick to sink to my knees
“Look at you! Such a good girl! Such a good slut she’s learned what to do before we even play. Tell me do you like the idea of mommy fucking you so hard you’re left like a pile of jello?”
Her calling herself mommy made me audible moan.
“Oh yes mommy was in there and mentioned quite a few times. Does someone have mommy issues, huh? Did your mommy hurt you?” She teased wrapping her hand around my throat.
“Holy shit Larissa.” I moaned out rubbing my thighs together.
A crack sounded in the room before I felt it across my cheek. She had slapped me! Jesus fucking Christ I was dripping.
“That’s not my name.” She hissed.
“I’m sorry mommy.”
“Much better!” Her frown quickly turned to a smile her mood completely flipping again.
She back into the back of the couch before flipping me around and slinging me over it.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard your fucking legs won’t work. Here I was thinking you were my sweet innocent girl, when the whole time you’ve secretly been a dirty fucking slut!”
“Yes mommy please, please fuck me!” I begged looking back at her.
I was rewarded with the sight of her unzipping her dress revealing her dark maroon bra and matching panties with her cock straining painfully against it. I couldn’t help but moan knowing I was about to get properly ruined.
She wasted no time shoving herself all the way to the sheath bottoming out against my ass.
“FUCK!” My scream echoed in the living room.
“No need to warm up a slut like you, you’re always dripping aren’t you?” She began a ruthless pace, hips pounding against my ass.
Her hand collided with my ass landing two quick blows making me jump.
“I asked you a question answer me slut!” She snarled.
“Yes mommy! I’m always dripping just for you!” I sobbed face smushed into the couch as my orgasm washed over me and I instantly knew I was fucked.
“Oh so we aren’t just a slut are we!? We are a greedy fucking slut!? Did you ask to come? I don’t think I heard anything and last I checked I have excellent hearing!” She landed four more slaps to my ass.
“I’m sorr-” She cut me off.
“Oh you’re sorry? No I don’t think you are but you will be.” And with that she began slamming back into me and using her hands to pull me on to her dick.
“FUCK! NO! MOMMY!” I screamed sobbing into the air my body bouncing ruthlessly. “Please I’m sorry! I can’t- I can’t!” I begged.
“But you fucking will. You’ll take every orgasm I give you and if you don’t ask and thank me for each one I’ll add on two more do you hear me?!” She snapped not relenting.
“Yes mommy!” I cried feeling another approaching. “Please may I come!?” I screamed.
“Now!” She barked snapping her hips not slowing.
She fucking me through three more before she finally pulled out and laid my shaking body on the couch.
“You did so good darling!” She cooed brushing my hair out of my face. “I’m going to go get you some water and start a bath for you okay?”
