— author’s note: this is a mix between two requests i got. one was to inspire it off of slut interlude, the other was a friends w benefits/playboy idea. i mixed them and decided to make olivia get her heart broke by this girl she’s been chasing for a while, and while you two had been best friends, she never really cared about you. she was too busy caring about basketball and girls she thought was hot, but you filled the void tonight. this fic will be rlly bad, but i’m gonna keep practicing!! okay, so i may have switched povs during smut. i’m really sorry, but i just cannot write as the receiver. my mind is too busy wanting to do the fucking, like 😭😭 so you guys get olivia’s thoughts and shit during that. i apologize but like i’m not a receiver… and idek how to write it like that. 💔 like im tryna think of my gf to immerse myself ngl @3ldritchblast tumblr summr AAAAH
— synopsis: olivia gets her heart broke by her favorite play thing leading her to ask you for comfort.
you didn’t want this moment to end. olivia’s long legs draped over your lap as her head was pressed back into the arm chair. the cushion easing her tense muscles. the smell of her fresh body wash filled your senses. she was so warm right now. she always took hot showers after a game, swearing it helped her relax. like the steam could somehow erase every bad shot or hard foul.
she’s your best friend. the two of you haven’t separated since high school. even went to Notre Dame together, so when she transferred to TCU? she’d facetime you nearly every night to try and help the ache in your chest. you’d missed her. her warm body, her gentle touch, the way her laughter filled your dorm up even when you were annoyed with her, the way she’d find a way to sneak in little hugs or side swipes whenever she was near you.
olivia’s legs kicked out above your thighs, the heel of her foot digging into the armchair. another buzz echoed from her phone, a reminder to you that your best friend wasn’t yours, that she was only half of what you wanted her to be. you’d always wanted to taste her lips. feel them press against yours while her fingers snaked into your hair and held you against her— to suffocate you with her own breath, while her free hand groped your chest. dreams were made for that though. liv made it pretty clear she didn’t want you, that she didn’t like you, even if she would feel you up on occasions. life was funny that way. everyone you wanted never loved you back.
you’d remember her birthday, her favorite songs, you’d even remembered her mother’s favorite show… but she forgot yours. excuses were the bane of your existence merely because you made so many for her. it’s like you forgot self preservation the moment her brown eyes trailed over your face, like ego and pride didn’t matter in the presence of olivia miles.
you kept stealing little glances at her. she was your kryptonite, your dream that’s never going to come true, a fairy tail that you waited for. her fro bounced slightly when she raised up and looked at her phone. her lock screen was a picture of bean and herself. liv’s fingers curled around the black case of her phone— a soft scoff escaped her lips before she’d tossed it back down, whatever it was.
it must’ve made her upset.
her toned, brown legs flexed against your lap, kicking slight at the arm chair. she was restless.
“you good?” you asked, voice was soft to maybe tease the pressure between her shoulders blades. the same way you’d speak to her whenever she’d lost big games, or when she’d give you those big eyes and ask you to play 2K with her... your hand went to her ankle, squeezing it slightly to provide some kind of support or comfort. whatever the pretty girl needed at the time.
olivia shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, which meant something was definitely wrong. she told you everything, and if she was trying to hide stuff from you…
your thumb brushed over her skin, “liv…” you murmured.
she’d took off her glasses and laid them next to her phone that buzzed again. the vibration against the table shook your water, but she didn’t seem to look again. “it’s fine… stop askin’.” her voice was hoarse. olivia hardly talked to you that way, but she had a temper. you’d seen it on court. she would chirp it up against players, whether they were bigger or not, olivia didn’t have any filter. that was something you loved about her. that cockiness, the “arrogance” that everyone else hated was your favorite thing.
olivia groaned, like your repeated questions were annoying her. her brown eyes flickered over you, “a’ight, well. this dumb fuckin’ bitch is just drunk as hell and sent me a pic of her and some guy.” she said sharply, fully expecting the conversation to just be over now. she didn’t want to hear another word from your mouth. liv’s fingers played with her bottom lip, fingers tapping and pulling at it.
you’ve never heard her sound that way, as if she was jealous or something. usually she was on top of the world, knew she was hot, knew she made girls easy by a look, yet she was worried about someone taking a picture with a guy?
you didn’t ask why does it matter? it was evident in how her shoulders had tensed, bracing for whatever you could say. she hadn’t meant to be vulnerable and let you know she was stuck up on some girl that couldn’t even give her loyalty.
“‘m sorry, livvy.” you whispered. it was low enough she could barely hear you. you didn’t really want her to hear you though. you didn’t want her to feel pitied cause that’d only make it worse.
a soft scoff escaped her lips before she got off the couch— swinging her legs over your lap to stand up. olivia’s fro bounced with the motion, a little messy as puffy strands rested ontop of her forehead. her warm brown skin shined in the dark lighting. the golden lamp providing soft ambience, making her features softer and glowier. liv’s shirt rose up— showing off that abdomen and the firm ridges painted across it— when she’d stretched her muscular arms over her head: “it’s whatever, babe, i’m gonna go.”
you watched her walk off to the bedroom. she’d just left her phone and everything behind. you picked it up. you knew better than to, but olivia gave you her passcode forever ago. she trusted you: it’ll be okay. your thumb entered the code just to pull up the messages.
the thread of messages were a mixture of flirting and arguing.
your mouth dropped at how olivia had been texting this random ass girl: calling her a slut, saying she’s no good, damn. liv had been lying to you. she said this was just a friend? they’ve been dating for months now. you leaned over just to focus. your hands shaking. she wasn’t yours, so what does it even matter? you know olivia doesn’t love you. you’re just best friends, regardless though, your heart was at the bottom of your stomach, resting there, as your thumb trembled above the screen. you wanted to stop reading, but even when your throat burned from wanting to throw up or the way your eyes got blurry… you just couldn’t. it’s like every line made it worse, like this pain was some kind of drug that had you hooked. you undeniably needed to understand. what does olivia miles see in her that she can’t see in you?
was it her eyes? were yours not pretty enough? was it her smile? why, why, why? every thought and insecurity tangled in your head, suffocating your mind, making your head lean back to try and get some relief from the stress in the back of your neck.
“what you doin’, man?” liv’s voice broke the silence. her dark eyes on you. she was standing at the bedroom door, just looking at her phone in your hand. the sight of the glowing screen a fragile expression of the distrust between you both now. she’d sounded so tired, like this wasn’t a fight she wanted to have with you. liv hadn’t expected to either. at least not tonight, maybe not ever. “why the hell you on my phone? i told you it was fine.” she snapped. her voice rising. her face distorted in that anger you’d only ever seen on television when someone would push her, or when she’d got too caught up in the moment; she went to you, and her hand jerked the phone from yours. the case burning your palm from how fast she’d pulled it.
“i don’t know, livvy.” your voice pathetically broke. it was a soft whine, and you covered your eyes with your hand to prevent her from seeing the redness in them— praying she didn’t even care.
olivia did care though. it wasn’t how you wanted. it wasn’t the tender, sweet love you always wished for from her or honestly anyone else, but from liv? you’d take anything she offered you. scraps of attention, small calls, or short texts in the middle of the night… she tossed her phone back on the table. she leaned over and pulled on your wrist. her warm fingers tugging your hand away: “you cryin’?” she asked. she was too mad at you to really give you any sympathy, but she couldn’t stand seeing you cry either. her grip on your wrist didn’t falter just stayed as your hand fell to your lap. your thigh tingled when her fingers brushed against the skin.
your nose was scrunched, tears falling down your cheeks, too fast, too hot, to only be over getting caught. “why you crying, mama?” a familiar nickname since highschool. she always teased you with it cause you were months older than her. it used to be a bad thing, but now it always made your stomach curl. wishing she’d whisper that into your ear while her fingers spread your folds.
“because, liv, you had a whole girlfriend and never told me?” you looked up at her through that glimmering gaze. brown eyes softening when she’d seen the shimmer in your soft, sweet eyes. olivia’s hand went to your hair. she didn’t run her fingers through them like a lover would, or twirl it playfully, instead she ruffled it.
“everyone always in my business. just figured it’d be nice to have something to myself for once.” liv answered. her voice dropped a bit. she patted your shoulder before she grabbed her phone back off the coffee table. “i can sleep on the couch. ion want you on this hard thing— get in the bed.” even if it was her apartment, she’d sacrifice her body for yours.
olivia miles was becoming a household name. whether people called her the show, magic, goggles, it didn’t matter. everyone knew who the other was talking about. famous celebrities casually bringing her up, athletes from other sports praising her, and fans talking about her confidence and attitude.
the pressure of expectations had built up so fast on her, yet she handled it too well. interview after interview, she had a quick come back. it didn’t matter if they asked why she didn’t pass the ball, or how it felt knowing she could have saved the game if she’d done this or that, she never hesitated even in the face of a difficult question. until they started to ask about the girl she was seen with, that’s when it always became a problem. her face would sour, a wrinkle form between her eyebrows, liv’s thick lips pursing together, “i can’t have friends?” she’d shoot back before she’d pull on the towel around her neck, ditching the reporter, while her teammates followed behind her with disappointed glances towards the camera.
on twitter, tiktok, whatever, there were videos of her and that girl. the girl she’d just cussed out, the same girl she’d called a slut and a dumb bitch, the girl she’d hid from you for ages— yet there was the video. olivia’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her into her side while pressing a quick smooch to the middle of her forehead. you clicked replay. finding both solace and despair at the sight of those lips pressed against that skin. it should be yours, but it never would be. when the world gives you anything, it’d strip it all away from you.
olivia hadn’t reached out to you since that night. silence lingered between you, echoing in lost messages from the both of you, in the caller ids… the way you’d grab your phone too quick from the table in hopes it’d say livvy-poo and just never did.
the weeks started to grow painful without her. more evidence of her relationship coming to the front. she stopped hiding it now. her girlfriend under her comments calling her sexy, while you hadn’t even sent a message to congratulate her for winning rookie of the month back to back. it wasn’t like either of you to go this long without communication, even being miles away never affected anything. facetimes would suffice, but her life was moving on without you.
leaving you with the realization she’d never needed you at all. you were only a placeholder in her life, a friend that was sweet and good to her, held her up when she was collapsed… your time had passed. you deleted some of the pictures with her in your gallery, keeping the bitter sweet ones: like her staring up at the camera with a huge shit-eating grin, or her arm slung around your shoulders while yelling, but your favorite was always the one of her sleeping on your chest. it was an old one from highschool. her cheek had pressed into your flesh, slobber drooling off of her lips and attaching to your shirt. an innocent and sweet picture— where had this olivia gone to?
when will she ever come back?
fame has chased her, and instead of running with you, she’d ran away.
you’re sure your jaw dropped. it’s 2:47 am, and neither of you should be awake right now. her text message stayed at the top of your notifications, staring you in the eye: presented like a challenge you weren’t sure you’d win or even wanted to take it. you can’t ignore it though. the silence had grown comfortable by now, but the thought of her arms around you again made it worth it.
you bit your lip while waiting for her response. your teeth digging into the soft, sweet flesh, tongue swiping over the ident letting you taste your own watermelon gloss.
could you spend the night with me?
your fingers hesitated over the keyboard. should you really let her back in your life? won’t it be a waste? she’ll just run off with her girlfriend. whatever. it’s olivia.
yeah bby just give me a few, okay?
not even a second lasted before your phone dinged again:
you drove to her apartment in minneapolis. it was a simple one, kind of like the house everyone made fun of with kim kardashian. hardly any paintings on the walls besides the seldom poster of movies and maybe her favorite basketball player growing up. one that she told you she’d planned to get signed since olivia finally had the connections to get it done. the radio was playing shitty songs as usual. low, soft beats, and any other time it would’ve chilled you out. music would’ve lightened the burden on your heart. there just wasn’t anything that could ease the edge of anxiety growing in you tonight. breathing got labored from the heat in the car. july’s air humid. the air felt oppressive, squeezing your lungs tightly and suffocating you— too stuffy. the dial got twisted, your fingers gripping the steering wheel once more. harder this time, knuckles paling when you’d think about her. will tonight be different, or will it be another nightmare for you to forget?
parked between the white lines of the lot, the building looked bigger, more threatening than you’d remembered it before. it’d been a safe place for you prior to these weeks, somewhere to crash at, somewhere to watch your favorite movies and repeat tv shows while liv cooked up some pasta for the both of you.
now it was a shelter of broken relationships and dreams that’d been shattered. headlights flashed as cars passed you, similar to the thoughts swirling in your head: olivia, olivia, olivia. you got out, slamming the door behind you with impatience. you knew you’d been stalling for too long, but it was time to finally see liv. genuinely, what’s the worst that could happen? she wanted to see you, she missed you. that’s all that mattered.
the door cracked open when olivia heard you knock. she must’ve seen your car from her window. the muscle of her jaw working, that faint adam’s apple bobbing in her throat when she’d seen you. “hey.” she rasped. brown eyes taking you in all at once. her gaze was heavy tonight, a little hotter, and you swore you could smell the faint indulgence of alcohol beneath that familiar cologne. “you came.” she sounded surprised, but her lips were playing a cocky smile— two confusing gestures, until her hand landed on your wrist. her fingers brushed the inside of the warm pulse that throbbed underneath the indent of her thumb.
two heartbeats trying to match each other’s, yet yours were going impossibly fast, “liv… you missed me?” when did you turn into the girl that cared if someone missed you? you’d always prided yourself on being independent, but everything you’d ever known came falling and bending to olivia miles’ will.
her hand that squeezed your wrist answered the question for you, a slight tug to get you out of the hallway and into her apartment. it smelled nice, kind of like spearmint in there, a crisp, fresh burn that you could taste on your tongue with a slight sting.
“it’s a mess in here, olivia.” you looked around the room. pillows had been tossed. why was there glass in the floor? your head subconsciously cocked to the side, olivia’s shoulders briefly tensed before her fingers caught your chin and twisted your face towards her once more.
“i broke up with her.” she murmured. her head tilted towards yours, a warm puff of her breath hit against your lips. liv took a small step forward, and you’d nearly backed into the shards when her muscular arm reached around your waist to hold you perfectly still. there was no escape from her anymore, no more denying the heat flaring between either of you.
“liv.” voice trailed off an almost weak attempt to convince her this was wrong, a warning, that she paid no mind to. her fingers already creeping down to your ass and gave it a firm squeeze.
olivia’s dark eyes were shiny right now, like she was on the verge of crying. the overhead lights making the slight sheen more visible, until she reached to flick the light off. “it’s better with the lights low.” it was too dark to see anything now. no lamps, no candles, not even a night light that you used to sleep with to keep the monsters warded that you swore existed.
no night light to keep this monster: inevitable heart break away from you.
before your eyes could even adjust to the darkness, to even see shapes in the dim lighting, olivia’s soft, full lips pressed against yours. her touch spoke for her. her fingers gripping your hips just a little too meanly, one hand slipping underneath the edge of your shirt just to feel of the soft skin there. you weren’t built like her, not nearly as athletic and toned, but her hand followed every dip in your back, praising each curve with an intensity that only liv knew how to do.
she tasted like regret. a mix of beer and lust, something you could get used to as long as she didn’t let go of you. you couldn’t see her, but as your eyes were squeezed shut— you could imagine how she looked right now. that brown skin glimmering, soft lips parted when your tongue slithered between space, and her afro pulled into a puff from earlier practice… the way her hand caressed your lower back sent sparks straight to your cunt.
your shirt was tight on your body, and you could feel the fabric restraining her movements enough to annoy her when she’d tried to go further. olivia’s mouth broke away from yours— a sling of translucent saliva connecting your mouths. you could feel it dangle before it hit against your chin. fingers tugged at the bottom of your shirt, tugging it over your long arms. you didn’t know what she did with it. it made no sound when it hit the floor, but it didn’t matter, cause her mouth swallowed your question.
she’s such a good kisser. that was the most prominent thing right now. it’s like she knew how to make your head spin by licking the sharp tips of your canines, or catching your bottom lip in a defiant bite, and she knew how you liked to be kissed. you’d told her all about it when you were freshmen in college together. that dorm held so many memories, but this apartment was reliving years of built up tension.
you love how dominant she is right now. she’s mapped out your back, but now her fingers were splayed against your stomach— nails scraping the sweet and soft skin like a taunt. shivers raked through your body, but she didn’t feel the need to pull away.
olivia could taste every inch of your mouth. you tasted divine, something she’d been drowning for without ever knowing. god, she’d needed you for so long. she spent a better half of a decade pretending nothing was going on between the two of you, pretending there hadn’t been nights where she’d grasped a pillow and pushed it beneath her pelvis while gasping your pretty name.
or the time in the shower she’d pulled up the picture of yourself she’d seen so many times on your lock screen, the way you smiled, she’d perverted it to you smiling up at her— dazed, needy, and a dripping cunt that fluttered and pulsed for her addictive touch.
and now you were putty in her fucking hands. you followed her every movement. olivia didn’t want you to see her like this. she didn’t want you to see her blown black pupils, or the way her dark cheeks were flushed with pure heat, liv wanted you. the heartbreak from earlier, her girlfriend cheating on her: making olivia break up with her.
it’d drove her crazy. it didn’t matter if her ex girlfriend’s name was on the tip of the tongue, all that mattered was the way your back hit the couch— a heavy thump that echoed in the dim light— and how your legs wrapped around her hips to accomodate her.
good girl, you knew what to do. “i always knew you wanted this shit.” olivia sounded so cocky. ego fueled by how easy you were being.
“shut up, liv,” you breathed. your head tilting back regardless. the last thing you wanted was for her to stop. liv’s lips dropped to your throat, kissing sloppy and slow trail down your collar bone. the softness of her lips pressing against your skin, tasting every bit of you, savoring the sweat between your breasts. it was only a light sheen, but olivia’s hips grind down against you. your hips bucked up into that.
“you want me to go then?” olivia asked.
“no, no!” fuck. you were way too desperate. it was one syllable, but your voice cracked a little too hard, and her smile lingered against the split of your chest. you fed her ego so good. olivia’s fingers hooked into your panties waistband, pulling them down enough to tease, but she didn’t even bother to dip her hand below.
liv’s mouth pulled from your skin just for hot spit to slide down your stomach and into your panties. it mixed with your wetness, squelching, as your thighs pressed together. her hot spit felt so good, like you could feel it so distinctly against your pretty, swollen clit.
“that’s what i thought, baby girl,” her voice was low, gravelly, and she knew she had you where she’d always wanted. beneath her, begging, with your legs falling open. thighs trembling— just waiting to squeeze around her wrist while she pumped you full of every long finger.
olivia’s hand moved beneath the panties fabric. her fingers cupping your cunt, heel of that big palm pressing into your bud. your sweet noises made a small grunt from her. seeing you like this was making her just as hot, just as bothered, because she loved to see you feel you squirm, love to feel the heat radiating off of your skin.
the friction between your clit and her palm caused your pussy leaked, clenching hopelessly around nothing: just throbbing, begging to be filled by olivia’s fingers.
“l-livvy… i need it so fucking bad. you.”
liv adored you. your cunt was smeared as her fingers rubbed your slick all over those flushed folds, making a mess out of you— even if you’d done it yourself. she wanted to keep teasing you, to watch the shadows of your face move since that’s all she could really even see. faint edges of your lips as they parted, the slope of your nose when it’d scrunch in response to a hard grind, or how your hair fell backwards against the couch.
just two shadows, desperate and needy, like ghosts that were finally allowed to touch after decades of being dead.
olivia finally slipped her middle finger between your folds. the low sound that fell from her lips echoed between the two of you, the little resistance as she slid her entire digit in— the knuckle was all that prevented more.
your whimpering grew louder, and usually, she’d muffle her exes, or play things, whatever olivia felt like calling them, but tonight. fuck. you drove her crazy. all she wanted was to feel you clench around her fingers, to feel that subtle telltale throb when you grip her hand with those tight walls.
“shh, baby,” she whispered. “i got neighbors, shit,” she cussed the moment your cunt gushed out another flood of slick. the wet sound was obscene between the both of you, echoing in the quiet and dark apartment. even if you didn’t make a noise, everyone could hear the slick slide of her finger that pumped into your precious cunt.
olivia made a quick movement the moment your back arched, taking advantage of the position as her fingers immediately undid your bra. she pulled it off you— fumbling since she couldn’t really see where the fabric was, but you helped her, and she was so thankful for you.
liv’s head tipped downwards. her mouth praising your chest already. your nipple was so hard, between olivia’s teeth, nipping it roughly while her ring finger pressed in. her tongue lapped around your sensitive breast, tasting each expanse of skin like it’d be the last she’d ever had. a dream come true for her, to finally taste her best friend, the one girl she never could have.
you could still smell the mint in the air. it was so sharp, increasing the edge in your stomach when her digits stretched you so well. your walls taking her whole, nice and loose, just the way she loved to fuck you.
olivia knew what was going through you. she could feel it. every shock to your system, every flood to your pussy, the way your cunt trembled around her fingers while greedily snapping your hips against that wrist tryna swallow her entire hand.
she curled her fingers— letting those long digits to press into that sweet, soft, gummy area that others only found in you with a strap. she was so fucking proud when she heard her name blissfully gasped by those pretty lips. olivia’s thumb went to your clit, pressing down in quick, maddening mashes, her motions became more aggressive with each cruel thrust in your pussy.
she was flicking her wrists to drive her fingers deeper, meeting each sloppy grind of your hips.
“liv… please, i wanna cum, baby,” you begged, but you didn’t want this to end either. you were holding it as well as you could. “i wanna see your face. olivia, fuck,” your words mindless. in another world, maybe she’d turn the lights on.
but in this moment, you were another slut for her to fuck, for her to use, and the way you were pleading— olivia wanted you to shut the fuck up and just cum.
“god, do you ever shut up?” olivia snapped. her fingertips curling into that spot again, it was brutal, the way she slid in that index finger. vision blurrying around the edges, every muscle in your body locking up for a brief second as your cunt pulsated around those three fingers that worked you through it.
she didn’t stop those quick motions, not even when you were drenching her hand. this wasn’t enough. it hadn’t made her forget about the heartbreak, it didn’t make her forget about the cheating, but you’d stay the night— you’d let her use that body, and that’s all she needed.
so her hand slapped your cunt when waves of relief crashed through your body. your head slamming against the arm chair of the couch, hair falling with the motion, while olivia’s fingers withdrew from that slippery cunt with a low, priceless groan: “atta girl. now lemme eat you out.”
for you, it was a promise for more that an orgasm didn’t mean it’d end. to olivia miles? it meant her bed wouldn’t be empty, and you’d be underneath her getting fucked out whether her mind was on someone else or not.
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