“𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫”
Pairing: Shane McCutcheon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Westwood, her place, post-hookup turned situationship (bc she does NOT do relationships🙏🏼)
Tags: fluffy smut, teasing, lingerie, oral (r!receiving), praise kink, fingering, tension → release, flirty dialogue, soft Shane being talked into it, her being a little nerd💕
⚠️ 18+ only — NSFW content ahead
You met her at The Planet.
It was kind of her place. Not legally, but spiritually — her body practically belonged to that bar stool by the corner wall, long legs kicked out like she wasn’t ever planning to leave. Leather jacket slung over her chair. Drink in hand. Smile crooked. Always joking around with her friends. Eyes watching everything and nothing.
She’d barely looked at you when you sat down beside her that first night.
“Don’t even try,” she muttered, chin dipping toward her glass.
“I wasn’t,” you lied, blinking up at her with feigned innocence. “But now that you mentioned it…”
She’d rolled her eyes. Lit a cigarette. Said nothing.
You ended up in her bed that night anyway.
You weren’t dating, not officially. She never called it that. But she stopped sleeping with other girls. Started picking you up from work. Let you crash at her place more than yours. You started leaving a toothbrush there. One day, she handed you your favorite coffee before you even asked.
But not not serious either.
Which is how you end up here, one random Friday night, walking into her apartment without knocking — key tucked between your fingers, lingerie hidden under your coat, nerves buzzing just beneath your smile.
You had plans tonight. A reservation. Something cute and date-coded.
You find her on the couch, controller in hand, hood on, legs stretched out and eyes glued to the screen. Probably playing GTA San Andreas or something.
“Hey,” she mumbles, not looking away. “Thought you were working late.”
She still doesn’t look up.
“Apparently you thought a lot of things,” you mutter, stepping toward her slowly.
God, she’s so into that stupid game.
You stand between her and the TV.
Instead, you slide your hands slowly over your hips, hooking your thumbs into the band of your silk robe. It falls to the floor.
Now that gets her attention.
The controller clatters to the side.
Shane stares — mouth slightly open, eyes dragging down the curve of your waist to the lace tucked between your thighs.
You smirk. “Now you wanna look at me.”
She blinks like she’s trying to reboot.
“I—I didn’t know you were coming,” she says, voice suddenly a little hoarse.
“I know,” you purr, climbing into her lap. “And you forgot about our dinner. Again.”
“I didn’t—fuck, you look—”
You press your hands to her chest, grinding down slowly.
“Jesus,” she breathes, but she still hasn’t touched you.
You cock your head. “What’s wrong, Shane? Suddenly shy?”
“You’re just—fucking distracting, that’s all.”
“Mmh. Sounds like someone’s scared.”
She lets out a quiet, wounded little laugh.
“No? Then why are your hands still on the couch?”
She tries to resist. Really, she does.
But you roll your hips one more time and her jaw tenses, knuckles flex, and then—
Finally, her hands are on you.
She grabs your waist, pulls you down harder, and groans low in her throat like she’s been trying so hard to behave and you’ve just ruined it completely.
“Such a tease,” she mutters, mouth trailing up your neck.
You hum. “Took you long enough.”
By the time she gets you on your back, you’re soaking.
Shane doesn’t rush — no, she takes her sweet, sinful time.
She kisses down your stomach, her fingers leaving trails of warmth as she goes. You tangle your hands in her hair, whisper praise like spells into the dark.
“You look so good between my legs…”
“You love when I get you like this, huh?”
She groans like it hurts.
And when her mouth finally reaches you?
You arch up so hard your back leaves the couch.
Her tongue is slow, deep, purposeful. She knows exactly what she’s doing, exactly how to edge you until you’re trembling under her touch. She moans into you, one hand holding your thigh, the other slipping between your bodies to press two fingers inside, slow and smooth.
“That’s it, baby,” she whispers, lips sticky against your inner thigh. “Say my name like that again.”
She whimpers — a tiny noise, helpless, desperate — and fuck if that doesn’t make you melt.
She’s so good when she gives in.
So pretty when she forgets to pretend she doesn’t care.
You cum hard. With her name on your lips and your body shaking under her, you fall apart and she holds you through it, mouth soft now, fingers slowing, kisses drifting upward.
“See?” you murmur after a moment, breathless. “Told you ignoring me was a bad idea.”
She laughs against your stomach.
“Yeah,” she says. “Lesson learned.”
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