mars maiden

or of another sound. cause as you walked through the corridor, building almost empty at this hour. almost. you felt like you were going insane for a moment when you heard a gasp, some hushed whispers and shuffling coming from an office on the other end of the corridor. from an office of your higher-up. like, higher higher-up.

caitlyn kiramman. almost-owner of the whole company. waiting for her mother, cassandra kiramman, to pass down the ownership of the company. golden kid, perfrct fucking heir and a total bitch. she wanted everything perfect and if there was a single, little, teeny tiny mistake? you were most definitely done for.

and now you had to walk past her office to get to the elevator. hoping the heels of your shoes wouldn't give it away that you've heard whatever is happening inside.

maybe there isn't anything happening inside? it's a well known fact she stays late at work, doing god knows what. maybe she just… hit her foot. tripped. god, anything else other than your first guess at this point.

you basically tiptoed forward, cursing your kitten heels in your head. walking slowly and carefully, you neared her office. you dreaded the way the voices got a bit louder, clearer. you could swear you heard a moan. a damn moan. yeah, you're dead if you get caught.

and the doors to the office were slightly ajar. you could hear shuffling, brushing clothes, breathy whispers. as much as you wished you could be as silent as a mouse, but in the quiet corridor your shoes gave you away. you hoped whoever was there was too busy with themselves to hear the click-clacking of your heels.

and for a moment you actually believed you could succeed, so close to the elevator. you didn't think through the little ding! coming from the elevator, politely wanting to inform you about arriving to this level.

"shit— get off me, wait." you heard the posh accent, so specific for that one person.

after a moment caitlyn kiramman fully opened the door to her office, looking around before stopping her gaze on you. she stood tall, fixing her last button of her white office blouse. her expression was empty, scarily calm, but there was the slightest squint of her eyes, as if she tried to remember your name.

then, you saw the oh-so-recognizible hair peeking out from inside the office. violet vanderson was there too, now watching the whole situation with a twinkle in her eyes, as if completely unbothered by being caught. her shirt was unbuttoned on the bottom and the top, the rest of buttons crookedly fastened.

she had the audacity to give you a small wave from behing the kiramman.

"what are you doing here at this hour?" caitlyn asked you with slightly raised eyebrows and a tiny frown tugging at the lines of her face.

"i was told to finish the project about the expectations for the next year and propositions of new ideas for the business. i didn't mean to-"

"don't. don't mention… this. i want to know why your supervisor left that amount of work for you." she ordered, interrupting you. you could swear there was a tiniest bit of blush at her cheeks when she mentioned their little affair.

you knew of violet vanderson. obviously. she told everyone to just call her 'vi'. she was this confident but friendly token butch lesbian at your job. you didn't really work with her often, but you saw her sometimes at bigger meetings or work outings. she had that boyish charm, cute freckles and a dangerous smile. your coworkers liked gossiping about her. they'd die if they heard about this.

caitlyn took the name of your higher-up, praising your work in a casually manner. she obviously was thinking about something else than the amount of work you had to do, but she had to keep up the mask of a serious boss.

"…you're to come tomorrow to my office. preferably first thing in the morning. then we'll talk about… everything." she said, clearing her throat before taking a step back, glancing at vanderson, biting the inside of her cheek.

violet nodded, as if they talked with their minds, before she looked at you.

"all you need to know for now is that you saw nothing." said vi.

you nodded almost immediately, knowing that much. you were a smart girl. you were here, in the kiramman company, after all. you would do anything to not lose this job.

"well. have a peaceful night." caitlyn said, her words a sign that you're free to go for tonight. tomorrow will be hell of its own.

the whole way back to your appartment you were nervous. the whole evening, taking care of your cat, making your food, taking a shower and then watching some bullshit, you were nervous. you fell asleep nervous, and you woke up nervous too.

at work, your boss gave you a look that meant he was already informed about the consequences of his own, lazy actions. whoops. well, not your fault. caitlyn was the one who asked, you just answered.

you left your stuff at your desk, hands trembling just a bit. this small office was your place of work for the last almost year and now you were close to losing it. your first serious job. first job you felt good in. first job that paid good money. you let out a sigh, loking at the litte trinkets you brought here, little sticky notes with cheerful affirmations and simple drawings.

after a short walk you raised you hand and knocked on the door to caitlyn's office. you heard a soft 'come in', muffled from inside the office. you listened and entered, closing the door behind you, standing all tense, looking at her. she sat there, behind the computer, in a dark blue blouse and white slacks, glasses perched on the top of her nose. her hands rested one on top of the other on the desk, nails short and manicured.

she raised her gaze to you, humming with a soft nod to herself as if annotating that, yes, you came. she was pleased with it. with a wave of her hand she let you know to sit down at one of the two chairs opposite from where she was sitting.

seconds after you sat down another knock was heard. was that—?

it was.

vi entered, looking way less ruffled and unprofessional than yesterday. her white office shirt was buttoned up properly, sleeves rolled up a bit to show off her tattoos. you couldn't help but wonder where else she hid tattoos. it was a slightly inappropriate thought, but it came on it own at the sight of vi like that. sue you.

"i'm glad we all are here." caitlyn spoke up when vi sat down next to you, looking at you almost intensely. you couldn't help but feel like you're in deep, deep trouble. "and we all know why we're here."

you looked at both of them. sure, you knew what it was about, but you weren't sure how it'll end. with you losing job? with you moving to a different department? god forbid changing offices from your cozy, decorated one.

"let's cut to the chase, yes?" kiramman spoke up, pushing a piece of paper towards you. well, that was a bit confusing. huh.

both of them were watching you as you grabbed the paper, looking down at it.

"nda?" you asked, blinking a few times, "you're not firing me?"

"and why would i fire you? you're a great worker. it would be a shame to lose you over something so… trivial, right?" caitlyn replied with a hum, raising one of her eyebrows as she looked at you, her gaze making you a bit nervous, challenging you but at the same time making sure you're obedient and honest with your promise. well, if you're not, there will be legal consequences.

"so i just… need to pretend it never happened? that's all? no sudden cut from my paycheck, no losing the job?"

"she's not that cruel. believe me, behind that fancy accent and stern pout is hiding a softie." vi finally spoke up, making you look at her, eyes widening in the sloghtest at the casual tone, at the familiarity in her gaze. you could guess yesterday wasn't their first time doing… whatever they were doing. it made you curious, wondering how many people had caught them before, with how casual their reaction was. papers all ready, nda formulated.

"violet." caitlyn warned the redhead with a small huff, though she was surprisingly not actually annoyed.

vi shot something back, something playful and casual with a smile on her face before looking back at you, crossing her arms, biceps bulging in her office shirt. woah. yeah, you could understand why so many women from your workplace kept whispering about her everywhere.

"nda and i will have my eye on you. you can already get mentally ready, cause whatever next project will be, you'll end up with me." vi spoke up sure of herself, as if they already talked about it last night. they probably, most definitely had.

"but… you're from a different deprtment?" you replied, glancing at vi, then at caitlyn.

"doesn't matter. i already decided that next project will be done by two departments working together. also, i had a talk with jefferson. thanks to you i had a harsh realisation one of my workers, handpicked by me, turned out to be a lazy man. dissapointing." caitlyn chimed in, sighing at the end of her sentemce, shaking her head. you really did get my boss into some trouble… did you regret it? not at all.

that's how you went back to your decorated office, happy. you didn't get fired. you didn't have to live off the scraps while begging everywhere for a job. you still had it. you just… got a private bodyguard, somewhat. violet kept 'accidentally' ending up in the same places as you. cafeteria, grabbing coffee? what a surprise, she's there, getting something sweet! you go to eat lunch? she's there! happy to join you, of course. she just had to control from time to time that you didn't accidentaly blurt anything out and all. that's how she explains it, at least.

but the women from your department have different opinions. it's obvious that you, the pleasant to work with person that's not really that extrovertive, suddenly have the 'kiramman company's playboy' everywhere near. obviously the girls that loved to gossip immediatelly assumed that there was something between you. awkwarddddd.

it was even more awkward when they came up to you to ask you about it and vi appeared out of nowhere, hovering near you, saying only "we just have our little secret, ladies." all charming and all, but it definitely didn't calm down the gossip. quite the opposite. you obviously knew that the secret was the fact that she's a thing with the boss, but you let the girls believe whatever they wanted to believe in.

you actually started getting used to vi's company. especially when you two actually started working on a project together, getting a fancy, perfect presentation ready about something as boring as 'how much our company has spent on xyz and how we can make it better?'

working with violet was irritatingly easy. she listened, remembered what you said and actually considered all of it. she also didn't bail and stayed later every time you did as well. she even drove you to your place when it was late. she was so damn sweet when you got to know her and, yeah, you could understand why caitlyn kiramman wanted her. you almost started wishing you were first to discover what a wonderful person she was. you could imagine how gentle of a lover she was. you could imagine how sweet and caring she would be in bed.

jesus, you need to get laid. desperately.

vi wasn't helping with your hormones. you could remember her hand on the low of your back, above your ass, as she lead you out of the crowded meeting room. you almost cursed, biting your lip hard. what were you, a teenage boy that got a first ever hard-on? you gotta get over it. it's just a silly crush. on the girl your boss already called dibs on.

"you good?" vi asked you one evening, and when you looked up at her, god help you, her tongue darted out to wet her lips and you saw a glimpse of silver. a tongue piercing. you cursed caitlyn kiramman in your mind, imagining vi on her knees for caitlyn, showing her what the piercing feels like. oh my god, you thought, shaking your head to wake the fuck up from that daydream, feeling her gaze on you. you were sure you were all embarassed in the face.

"yup! all good! just… tired. we should get going soon. actually— you can go now! you can drop by and see miss kiramman while i… close everything and stuff." you replied with a smile. vi begun enjoying working with you in your little office, dropping by whenever she could, playing with the little trinkets, touching everything.

"you sure?" she asked, raising one eyebrow, the one with the scar splitting it almost in half, tilting her head to the side. like she knew. like she was aware of all your nasty, inaproppriate thoughts. you assured her that, yes, she can go. she listened with a bit of amusement in her gaze, taking all her stuff before saying goodbye.

and when you left your office around half an hour later, you heard it again. kissing noises comming from caitlyn kiramman's office, door left ajar just a bit. just to taunt and tease you. make you want it, want more. you glanced towards the inside as you waited for the elevator and, lord help you, you caught caitlyn's gaze. she looked into your eyes, her lips parted, cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair free from her slickback pony, making her even hotter. vi was all over her, you could see the redhead woman leaving small marks on caitlyn's collarbones. you could swear caitlyn smiled just a bit to you before you disappeared into the elevator, feeling all hot.

something changed throughout the next few weeks. slowly but surely. you still had your job, your cozy office and you still had vi nearby almost always. what changed was the fact that caitlyn started asking you more often to come into her office. for small things. at first you kept being nervous, thinking she kept noticing some mistakes in your rapports, but no. she kept saying things like "i really liked this part" or "i can see you spent quite a while making it perfect" or "i really appreciate how thorough you are". she kept praising you. and each time you visited her office, she kept losing a small piece of her cold mask. a small smile here, a softer gaze there. she even patted your shoulder once. she was awkward with it, as if nervous. caitlyn kiramman nervous? impossible.

and yet, here she was, her hair loose, glasses perched on her nose as she looked away from the screen of her computer, resting her gaze on you.

"do you enjoy sushi?" she asked suddenly, catching you off guard. well, that definitely wasn't a work related question, huh?

before you could do anything more than nod, vi entered the office. just like that, without knocking. it was late enough that nobody was here to notice this way too friendly and unprofessional behaviour.

"brought for three, just like you asked, cupcake." vi said, walking up to the desk and putting down take out sushi. you would've drooled, but you noticed the nickname.

"cupcake?" you repeated, looking up at vi.

"she's sweet. like a cupcake." she answered with a shrug before sitting on the chair next to you with a pleased smile.

you then asked caitlyn what's happening. sushi? for you? just like that? you knew that she has more than enough money, but… you didn't think you were that close with both of them. weren't they just keeping an eye on you just so their secret is safe? well, turns out that the answer is 'no'.

caitlyn didn't let you reject their offer, making you eat late dinner with them in her office, talking casually. at first you were pretty nervous, but you eased into it with help of vi who kept joking, making caitlyn even snicker once. you could see what vi meant when she said about caitlyn being a softie.

"so… how's your love life looking like?" caitlyn asked, surprising you yet again that night, making you laugh a bit as if the question was silly.

"well, you two know best how long i stay here almost every day. who would survive with a girlfriend like me?" you replied jokingly, though there was a bit of truth in your words.

"oh, stop. you're smart, capable and… well, pretty." caitlyn said, her glasses slipping just a bit lower on her nose as she looked at you, her gaze moving down and then back up. it's like she wasn't even trying to be subtle. maybe she thought there's no need to be subtle anymore.

"mhm, pretty." vi hummed in agreement, putting chopsticks down and turning on her chair to look at you as well, her lips curled in a smirk. "real pretty. and you know what i like the most?"

you looked at vi with curiosity in your eyes, raising your eyebrows in a silent question. the whole situation seemed so damn unreal you were sure they would tell you soon that you're fired or that this was a joke or-

"that lil tramp stamp above your ass." she said bluntly, honestly, with a pleased grin.

"you— what? how did you know about it? i swear i made sure it's always covered!" you replied, eyes widened as your hand unconsciously went to tug your shirt lower, even though it was covering everything now.

"well… can you really blame me? we spent quite some time together lately. i woulda seen it sooner or later, princess." said vi with a chuckle, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watched you fumble nervously.

"and you didn't share what you learned? wow, vanderson. i'm disappointed." caitlyn said, though there was a tiny smirk at her lips as she looked at you, "wanna show me?"

you were dead. you were sure you were dead. this can't be real, can it? you kept asking yourself if this was a dream as caitlyn stood up from her fancy chair and slowly circled the desk, looking at you as if you were a prey and she was so, so hungry. a starving panthress, running the tips of her fingers along the desk, her other hand making a move of curling her fingers in a clear sign ordering you to stand up.

you listened, standing up before she gently pushed you forward, pressing your frong against the edge of her desk, her cold hands pulling the hem of your white shirt up, eyes stuck on the tattoo.

"who would've guessed? such a good girl, such a good worker. and such a slut, it turns out." caitlyn tutted, shaking her head as her fingertips brushed along your spine, making you shiver, your hands grasping the edge of the white desk.

"but a sweet slut." vi added and you could hear the noise of her chair scraping against the floor, meaning she stood up as well. "right? you're always so sweet. so eager to help."

you could feel them, so close to you, basically caging you between their bodies, feeling the tall, lean posture of caitlyn on your left and the buff, always warm body of vi on your right.

"vi already told me a few times how eager to help you always are. and it just so happens that we have a small, tiny problem." caitlyn spoke, her posh accent making you feel all weak in the knees. this was cruel. they were cruel, playing with you like that. "both me and violet prefer… to hold the dominant position in intimate situations. it complicates things a bit. you're a smart girl, you must understand what i'm saying."

you were most definitely overheating. this must be some kind of a crime, the way they made you feel all pliant and obedient. it's not because you want to keep this job. no, this wasn't the case for quite a bit already. you're not moving away because you want it as well. you kept thinking about all the perverted thoughts you had - about both of them - and you can't even think you'd ever want to move.

"what— what do you want me to do about it?" you asked, daring to look over your shoulder, up at caitlyn. and holyyy shit, she looked so good. angelic almost. and yet, as good as a sin at the same time.

"smart girl, remember?" vi chimed in with a tsk, her hand casually moving to rest on your ass, on top of the maxi skirt you wore. she couldn't stop herself when she began, her fingers flexing and squeezing the fat of your butt, letting out a pleased noise that didn't make anything here easier.

"you want to help us, don't you, pretty?" asked caitlyn, her hand on your back pushing you and before you knew it, your chest was pressed against the desk. the desk in the office of caitlyn kiramman. your boss. your boss's boss.

"just be sweet like always." said vi, her voice tense with need and excitement. was it hot in here? or was it just them?

it was almost painful how slow caitlyn took everything. she let her hands wander around your back, sneak down and fondled with your tits while she kept you pinned down, let herself enjoy this and experiment with different forces and ways to touch you. you were pathetically soaked long before she actually tugged your skirt down, exposing your white, lacy panties.

"well, damn. you wear 'em every day, pretty? or are we special?" vi couldn't keep her mouth shut as she watched both of you from her chair, looking down at your ass, obviously enjoying the show.

you were actually thinking about replying, trying to say something bratty, snarky, something that wouldn't make you seem even more pathetic, but all that left your mouth was a whimper when caitlyn suddenly spanked your ass cheek.

it was getting harder and harder to focus on your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried. what you could focus on were vi's smart quips and the way caitlyn tortured your ass, as if you weren't tortured enough already.

"come on." you whined, shaking your hips a bit, making caitlyn scoff under her breath. "don't tease."

"impatient much?" she asked ironically, but she pulled your panties down, humming and letting vi whistle at the wet patch on your panties, fabric completely soaked through that you started making a mess on your inner thighs.

"damn, pretty. don't tell us you've been thinking about this. cause it makes you look like a little pervert." vi mocked, her voice holding no malice, thoigh it still made you squirm a bit in embarrassment before gasping harshly when you felt long, slim fingers brushing along your slit, collecting your juices.

but caitlyn listened to your pleads and didn't tease much more, fingers disappearing in your hole, the pace making you hold on your dear life to the desk, not even trying to stop the whiny noises that kept escaping your mouth. you were worked up, pent up, so damn horny for a while. you deserved this. and it seemed like this was a treat for the two of them as well.

vi kept commenting on everything that it was so, so obvious she couldn't wait for her turn, twisting in her seat, feeling her boxers turning wet as well. it was unbelievably hot, watching her lovely girlfriend finger a pretty coworker she had her eye on for a while. she knew caitlyn felt similarly - she noticed when her girl paid more attention to her employees than usually.

"miss— k-kiramman, please—" you gasped, feeling the tension in your abdomen growing constantly, making it hard to just not come there and then.

her fingers slowed down and she tutted in annoyance, making vi laugh.

"i'm quite literally ruining you with just my fingers. drop the titles." she ordered, her free hand delivering a smack to your ass cheek, making you arch your back.

you mumbled a weak apology before fixing your mistake, your voice a shaky, whiny mess.

"c-caitlyn." you said, feeling a bit weird. calling your boss by your name. well, it can't be that weird when she's fucking you, right?

"mm, good girl. lovely. come on, now." caitlyn praised, her fingers almost immediately picking up the pace again, her other hand moving to rub your clit.

"what a whiny princess, huh? does it feel that good?" vi asked, slowly standing up from her seat and rounding the desk, finding herself in front of you. her calloused hand went to grab you by your chin, making you look up. she almost laughed at the sight of your eyes all glassy. "answer me. it's not polite to ignore your higher ups."

"i— sorry, sorry. feels good, yes. uhuh. g-good." you babbled with a nod, arms trembling as you tried to keep yourself up just a bit on the desk while caitlyn kept finger-fucking you with one hand, tracing surprisingly gentle circles around your clit with other hand.

"i'm— close. close, i- can i? please?" you begged, pleaded, pathetically. you felt that if they deny you, you will simply crumble and cry, sobs getting closer to escaping as the pleasure started to overwhelm you, the tension in your abdomen so close to snapping.

vi looked up, exchanging glances with caitlyn, smirking.

"yeah. make a mess, pretty." vi said before she leaned lower, kissing your lips. you kissed back almost instinctively, not able to stop the noises against her lips when caitlyn pushed you over the edge, making you come on her fingers.

caitlyn kept going with her touches for a while longer, slowing down and when you were done and spent, she pulled her fingers out. you whined at the sudden lack of her in you, resting on her desk, your tits squashed against the wood.

when you looked up, you saw caitlyn walking up to vi, pushing her fingers between the lips of the other, making vi taste you on her fingers. wow. that was unnecessarily hot.

"shit, princess. gotta taste you more." vi mumbled after licking caitlyn's fingers clean, moving before you had the time to react.

before you could even move, she was behind you, on her knees, pushing your asscheeks open and then diving in, as if she would die if she didn't taste more of you right this second.

you whimpered, trying to squirm away for a moment when it felt too much, but you were too spent. caitlyn's hand rested on top of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently caressing you, mumbling soft praises that made you putty in their hands.

you could feel vi's tongue against your pussy. hells, you could most definitely feel the tongue piercing, too. the memory of it was turning you on way more than it should.

vi didn't need to do much to bring you to your peak again and before you could know it, you came again, back arching and moans leaving your mouth. vi's name kept escaping your lips when she fondled with your ass and kept her tongue moving like she was starving. like she needed every single drop of your cum to survive the night.

"t-too much. too much, please." you babbled when she kept licking you clean, trying to reach for her with one of your arms, but not being able to.

"poor thing. you're crying?" caitlyn cooed, her thumbs wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes as you sniffled, lost in the haze of pleasure.

after a few more seconds vi was finally satisfied, giving you last pat on the ass before standing up.

"come on, we gotta clean you up. you really made a mess in kiramman's office, huh?" vi teased, making caitlyn laugh a bit in amusement as she reached for some tissues from her desk.

your thighs were trembling and you were positively wrecked. how could you go back to your normal life after this mind-changing experience?

"i was thinking pasta for tomorrow?" caitlyn offered casually, looking at vi before giving you a glance as well while vi helped you put your skirt back on.

"me… too?" you asked, unsure if this was just a one-time thing or if she actually was asking you as well.

"well, you're a part of the secret now, pretty. so, yeah. you feelin' pasta tomorrow?" vi asked, nudging you with a soft smile.

you could get used to it. good news: you will get used to it.

“You know there’s an afterparty, right?” she says quietly, pulling her fingers from your mouth even though she doesn’t want to, just to hear your answer.

You nod. “I don’t give a shit about the afterparty,” you admit. To you, one more party or one less never meant much anyway. It’s all the same in the end. “I’m good here.”

“You sure you’d rather have this than a party with music, food, alcohol?” she asks in that low, dirty voice.

“Mm.” You murmur against her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, soft and lazy, teasing her with a small bite that makes her grab the back of your neck. “You’re better than all that, Violet.”

Vi laughs, flips you over in one sharp movement and leaves you underneath her, her thigh wedged between yours. She leans down, kneading your tits, staring at them like they’re something precious, or like she likes to call them, “her stress balls.” She licks one nipple hungrily, moaning before you even do, enjoying this as much as you, maybe more. Vi takes her time, sucking each nipple one by one, biting right at the edge of pain. She talks with her mouth still against your skin.

“We could be on a yacht right now,” she says, “But you want a stiff bed and hotel sex.”

You pull her hair back and stare into her dark, burning blue eyes.

“You can leave if you want,” you reply, pretending not to care while partly daring her to do it. With a glance, you point at the faint smoke still rising from the joint she abandoned on the nightstand. “Give it to me.”

Vi brings it to her mouth, takes a long drag, then parts your lips with her thumb and blows the smoke into your throat while kissing you. You choke a little, the burn sliding down your chest, your mind starting to float while your hands move on their own, desperate, touching Vi’s body like she’s liquid, like every inch of her skin is charged with static electricity.

Vi lowers her hand to your cunt, just playing, like she could torture you mercilessly all night long. Her finger gets bolder, stroking between your lips where she finds wetness. She laughs under her breath.

“You’re sick,” she mocks. “Concerts turn you on?”

“You turn me on, idiot.”

Now it’s your turn. You slip your hand between her legs and rub her clit with practiced rhythm, pressing slow circles, feeling the heat build while Vi curves toward you, mouth at your ear, breathing hard.

“Come on, doll, I know you love making me cum. Do it,” she begs, and the fragility in her voice catches you off guard.

You answer with the same touch, picking up the pace without going too fast, searching for the exact spot that makes her shake. Vi kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulders, biting everything she can until you feel marked and feral. Before letting her enjoy your fingers too much, you switch positions, climbing on top of her, pressing your pelvis against hers until your cunts line up, heat and slick mixing together, your clits searching for each other.

It’s slow at first, just brushing, grinding, feeling the pulse of your bodies and the sway of your hips, sticky skin sliding together, slick overflowing between your thighs. Vi guides you with her hands on your waist, tattoos shining under the dim light, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.

“That’s it, baby,” she murmurs against your neck, already lost in the feeling of you against her. “So good, so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Vi forces you to grind harder, to crush yourself against her like you could eat her whole.

“Fuck, Violet.”

“Ah, there it is,” she teases quietly, breath brushing your skin. “That little voice. I like that one.”

You bite her shoulder just to shut her up for a second, but she only laughs against your neck, completely entertained by you.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Then stop making such pretty sounds.”

There’s no sound except your bodies slamming together, Vi’s muffled moans, your ragged breathing, the dull thud of your heads against the headboard, hot crushed tits and the smell of sex filling the whole room. Your mind goes blank, only movement and hunger exist, the need to grind her down until she surrenders, until she cums first.

But Vi is stubborn. She holds on like a champion. So you take control, hook her legs over your shoulders, spread her wide and line your cunt up with hers higher, closer. Then you start grinding again, slower this time, your clits rubbing together, swollen pussy lips slick and hot, heat climbing like a fever.

You look down at her, your pace slowing more and more, like you want to feel every tiny tremor running through her body. Vi’s cheeks are flushed, lips shiny and swollen from all the kissing, and she’s still smiling at you in that insolent way that melts you.

“What?” she murmurs, still rubbing against you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You don’t answer right away. You just brush a strand of hair stuck to her forehead aside and run your thumb over her bottom lip, soft, almost tender.

“Open your mouth, my love.”

Vi does it without questioning you, staring up at you, trusting, like she’d let you do anything to her as long as it was you. The gesture is slow, intimate, more vulnerable than anyone would ever expect from her. And when your spit falls onto her tongue, slow and warm, Vi lets out a quiet sound that tightens something in your chest more than between your legs. Her fingers sink into your thighs as she swallows without looking away.

“Again,” she whispers, rough and needy. “Please.”

The way she asks makes you kiss her before answering. Your mouths crash together wet and messy, sharing breath and taste without caring about anything else. There’s no disgust, no shame, just hunger and affection tangled together in a way that can’t be separated.

Vi cups your face while you keep grinding together, slow but desperate at the same time. Every kiss feels like she wants to swallow your moans, your soft laughs, even the air from your lungs.

You’re close, too close, orgasm bubbling low in your stomach, but you refuse to cum before she does. Vi looks wrecked, mouth open, begging for more, repeating “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” so you keep going, grinding your cunts together until suddenly her body arches and she cries out, rough and animal, pure pleasure. Heat explodes between you, soaking everything, and only then do you let go too, your legs shaking while your body collapses onto hers.

You stay there for a moment, breathless. Vi strokes your hair, your cheek, kisses your eyelids.

“Now it actually feels like we had a party.”

“We’re disgusting,” you say, but you’re laughing.

“Does that bother you?” she asks, with a hint of vulnerability.

“The opposite.” You kiss her cheek, her forehead, her mouth. “I want you exactly like this. With everything you come with.”

“You wanna skip rehearsal tomorrow?” she asks, grinning with that wicked spark in her eyes. “Stay here all day, fuck and write songs.”

“Otherwise what the fuck are we rockstars for?” you say, kissing her, and inside that kiss, it feels like the whole world fits.

FRATBOY!VI who is obsessed with making you feel good.

Your hips buck up as Vi’s palm smacks against your clit, two of her fingers knuckle deep inside of you and pounding into you regardless of your squirming.

The wet sound of your cunt could almost be drowned out by the music coming from the small speaker on the desk if she didn’t have you so wet and worked up.

Her legs stay hooked over yours to keep your legs spread and open for her and she rests her head on your shoulder from behind you. “You feel so fucking good baby,” Vi breathes into your ear, her free hand sliding up your bare chest to palm your breast, rolling the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “So wet for me, god…”

You drop your head back against her shoulder as she attaches her lips to your neck again, your chest heaving beneath her hand. “Fuck Vi, please…”

Vi pulls her face away from your neck, looking over your shoulder to watch as she pulls her fingers out of your, soaked with your slick, and pulls them up to spread it around your swollen clit.

“Please what, baby?” Vi pants, the sight of you all flushed and writhing against her turns her on to no end, her nipples hard against her shirt and boxers damp against her cunt.

“Let me cum,” You whine as you turn your head to look back at her, you hand reaching down to grab Vi’s wrist to guide her fingers back inside of you but she just takes her hand off your chest and grabs your own, lacing her fingers with yours.

“I’ve got you, darling.” Vi catches your lips in a kiss, a little awkward due to the position but that doesn’t stop her. She relishes in the slight falter of your lips as she pushes her fingers back inside you and picks up her rhythm again.

You don’t even get through the next song before you’re pulling your lips away from Vi’s with a gasp, your legs tensing as you grind your hips into her fingers with every thrust. “Vi, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Vi—“

“Yeah?” Vi keeps the same speed, only changing so her palm grinds into your clit harder. “C’mon then baby, come for me.”

Your eyes roll back as pleasure crashes over you, your back arching against Vi’s chest and your cunt clenching around her fingers. Your hand tightens almost painfully around Vi’s where they’re still linked against your chest.

Vi fucks you through it, letting you ride out the high as she murmurs into your ear how beautiful you are when you come apart for her. She only slows down once you slump back against her, chest heaving, eyes hazy. The most gorgeous sight she’s ever seen.

FRATBOY!VI who is the CEO of the middle finger. Someone teasing her about you? Middle finger. Someone telling her to knock off the pda? Middle finger. Someone being an asshole to you? Nah, that’s an attempted punch in the face, usually being pulled back by you before she gets kicked out of college for breaking the assholes nose.

FRATBOY!VI who always has her arm around you in public. Slung around your waist to rest on your hip, sometimes shoving her hand in your pocket to keep you close. An arm around the back of your neck, resting on top of her jacket that’s sitting around your shoulders.

FRATBOY!VI who is always sleeping half naked in the summer. When you sleep over, you wake up to her in just her boxers. Either being held against her, an arm wrapped around you and her bare chest pressing against your back or she’s sprawled out on her front, tattoo’s out in the open for you to trace as she slowly wakes up beneath your touch.

FRATBOY!VI who isn’t always the one in charge during sex. Sometimes you like to boss her around a little and sometimes all the time she likes it.

Vi groans, her hands tightening on your hips as you trail your hand down her abs and into her boxers. Fingers sliding through the wetness and stopping to rub circles around her throbbing clit.

You lean forward, littering kisses down her neck from where you’re straddling her on the couch in the corner of her room. You pull your hand out suddenly making her curse and lift her head from where it was leaning against the back of the couch.

“Baby, what…?” She pauses as you slide off her lap, shoving your fingers in your mouth and moaning at the taste of her as you sink down to the floor between her legs.

“Up.” You pat the side of her hip, your thumbs hooking into the waistband of her boxers to pull them down.

“Fuck,” Vi curses, lifting up for a second to shove them down her legs and kicking them off her onto the floor, a visible wet spot on the front of them from the affect you have on her.

You don’t even give her a second before you’ve placed your hands on her thighs and attached your mouth to her clit, sucking it into your mouth and burying your nose in the hair surrounding it.

Vi moans in surprise, her hand immediately coming down to your head as her other clenches the arm of the chair. She pushes her hand through the front of your hair to move it away from your face so she can see you looking up at her, eyes fluttering shut every now and then as pleases little hums leave your mouth.

“Shit, you’re so pretty like this,” she pants, a small whimper leaving her lips against her will as your tongue flicks over her clit just right.

You pull back slightly to lap up the wetness seeping out of her, leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as you go before burying your face in her heat again. You wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.

FRATBOY!VI who wears her strap to a party under her clothes just so she can fuck you against the counter in the bathroom. Who loves being able to see you get more fucked out as she pounds into you in the mirror opposite.

FRATBOY!VI who, despite the image she has as a fratboy, loves the softness. Cuddling with you in the morning, watching you as you do your makeup, staying on call with you as long as you both can into the night whenever you don’t sleep together.

FRATBOY!VI who had girls all over her before you. Still does. Except now, she has the dull throbbing marks on her neck to show she is very much taken that she doesn’t even try to cover up. Not caring about who sees them.

FRATBOY!VI who loves when you ride her strap. Seeing you on top of her, tits bouncing and moans coming from your mouth every time it bottoms out inside you, she could cum just from the sight of you. Who grabs your ass in her hands to help you along when you start to falter as your orgasms builds up.

FRATBOY!VI who watches you beat all the others at beer pong. Who sits on the couch with a drink, one arm slung over the back of it where you were previously sitting, listening to the cheers from the surrounding people and the groans from the guy you were up against.

“That’s my girl.”

── .✦ ARCANE TAGLIST ・ @angryoilslick516 @cutflwr @ryleeluvslottiematthews @starlight-miyo @gigi83738283 @vxtanne31 @dizzy-dyke @minaaminaa8 @pvrnowitch @babyd0llyy @fortunxa @thatredheadloserlesbian

Mia calling

You sigh dramatically before grabbing the phone. “If I collapse, avenge me by filling the coffee maker with sand.”

“Gotcha.”

Your sister’s voice takes over as soon as you answer the call. “Quick question, do you want a king-sized bed or a double bedroom?”

“…what?”

“I’m booking the rooms right now,” Mia says slowly, clearly bothered by your confusion. “So, I need to know if you’re okay with the kids sharing your bed or if you want them on a second one.”

Your fingers stop moving over the keyboard. “I’m sorry?”

“The kids, Y/N. Luca and Ana? My children?”

“No, I heard that part,” you snap. Vi glances up at the change in your tone. “Why would they be sleeping in my room?”

“I mean… they love staying with you.”

Your eye twitches slightly. Love. Yeah, right. More like you’re the unpaid babysitter every family vacation.

Last year, your nephews had been dropped off at your room every day of the trip while your sister and brother-in-law disappeared for some “alone time”. The year before that, you’d spent an entire afternoon trying to stop Ana from eating leaves while everyone else drank margaritas by the pool. And the year before that… yeah, it’s an ongoing issue.

“I’m not sharing a room with the kids.”

Mia laughs once. “Okay, you’re funny. King size, then?”

“I’m serious.”

There’s a pause. Beside you, Vi has gone suspiciously quiet.

“Well,” Mia starts, impatience creeping into her voice now. “Mom and dad are paying for your room again, so I don’t get why this would be an issue.”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck. “I never ask them to.”

“But they are. You don’t even have kids, Y/N, we want to enjoy this trip.”

Something sharp twists in your chest. Mia’s not even considering her own statement: you don’t have kids. They always expect you to drop everything and take over their parenting responsibilities while they get to have fun.

To hell with that, you are making the most out of this trip.

“I’ll pay for it myself.”

“Oh my God,” Mia laughs incredulously. “Are you for real? You’re going to spend all that money just so you don’t have to help out?”

“I’m going to spend all that money so I can actually enjoy a trip for once.”

“You’re so selfish.”

You let out one short laugh, mostly because otherwise you might scream. Luca and Ana are adorable, you love them like crazy, but the idea of spending ten days taking care of their every need while Mia and her husband can relax makes your blood boil.

You need to come up with a way they won’t end up leaving the children with you, and you need to think fast.

“Actually,” an idea pops into your head, and you sit up straighter in your chair. “I’m bringing my girlfriend this time, so I won’t be available to babysit.”

Beside you, Vi slowly lowers the pen she’s been pretending to write with. The whole conversation had caught her attention ever since you picked up the call, but girlfriend? Since when did you have a girlfriend? And why is it bothering her so much?

“Your what?” Mia repeats after a second of stunned silence.

It’s too late to take it back, so you decide to double down immediately.

“My girlfriend.”

“Since when?”

“A while.”

Mia makes a noise in half-disbelief, half-annoyance. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is so inconvenient for Matt and me.”

“Too bad,” you clear your throat. “So, don’t book me with the kids.”

“You know what? Fine. Whatever.”

She hangs up the call, and silence crashes over the desk. You stare at your phone for a couple of seconds before slowly lowering your head into your hands.

What did you just do?

“So,” Vi says carefully from beside you. God, you had completely forgotten about her presence. “You got a girlfriend?”

“No,” your voice comes out muffled against the desk.

“Oh, good.”

Vi mentally slaps herself. Oh, good? You’re crashing out right in front of her and the only thing she can focus on is the fact that you’re still single. A wave of guilt washes through her as she realizes how relieved she feels after the confirmation.

“Family drama?” she tries to change the subject, arms crossed over her chest as she looks down at your exhausted figure.

“My family does this annual trip,” you start explaining, lifting your head only a little bit, “and somehow I always end up as my nephews’ unpaid nanny.”

Vi leans back in her chair slowly, visibly trying to process the insanity of the situation. “They just dump the kids on you?”

“Pretty much,” you gesture vaguely. “As soon as we get to the hotel, everybody needs a break. Spa, dinners, excursions— meanwhile I’m stuck stopping Ana from licking electrical outlets.”

She snorts despite herself. “Your niece did that?”

“She tried,” a smile tugs briefly at your mouth before it fades again. “And they always pull the same card. I’m single and child-free, with a lot of time in my hands, so I should help out.”

“Yeah, because clearly vacations are only meant for people with kids,” the sarcasm is clear in her voice.

“Exactly!”

Vi watches as you groan dramatically before dropping your forehead back against the desk. You look genuinely drained.

“What am I even supposed to do now?”

“You could just not go.”

“I can’t,” your voice comes quieter this time. “My mom gets sad because she wants everyone together, I can’t do that to her.”

Vi’s chest twists unexpectedly at that. You’re willing to compromise just to make your mother happy, even if it comes at the cost of actually enjoying your own vacation.

“What are you thinking of?”

“Either I rent a girlfriend or fake my own death,” you murmur. “I’m leaning toward death.”

“Reasonable.”

You finally lift your head enough to look at her properly, and Vi immediately regrets making eye contact because now she can fully see the exhaustion in your expression.

“I just wanted one vacation where I get to do what I want,” you admit quietly. “To relax, have some fun and just… enjoy myself for once.”

Vi’s chest tightens.

She knows how hard you’ve been working the last couple of months. The thought of getting a break, with not a care in the world or having to worry about anything, shouldn’t sound like an impossible fantasy for either of you.

Before she can stop herself, she mutters, “Damn. I haven’t had a real vacation in years either.”

You blink at her, and Vi immediately regrets speaking.

“Ignore me,” she says quickly, waving a hand. “I was thinking out loud.”

But you’re still staring at her.

A slow, dangerous thought begins forming behind your eyes.

“Hear me out…” you sit up straighter.

“No. I know that look and I’m scared of it.”

“You said you haven’t had a vacation in years.”

Vi narrows her eyes. “And?”

“And,” you continue, “I need a girlfriend.”

There’s a beat of silence. Somewhere across the office, a printer starts making horrible dying noises, but you keep staring at each other. There’s a determined look in your eyes, and Vi isn’t sure if she likes or dreads what you may be suggesting.

“You cannot possibly be thinking of—”

“I’ll pay for everything,” you cut in, and her eyes widen in surprise.

“What?”

“The room, food, drinks. All-inclusive fake dating experience.”

Vi laughs once in disbelief. “That’s your master plan?”

“It’s a great plan!” you clap your hands together. “You get a free luxury vacation and I get freedom from babysitting.”

“And in exchange I have to pretend to be in love with you for, what, a week or two?”

Heat creeps instantly up your neck. “It sounds weird if you say it like that.”

“It is weird.”

“Please, Vi.”

Vi should say no. She knows she should say no.

You’re coworkers. Barely even friends, at most. Sure, sometimes you grab lunch together or a couple of drinks after shifts, and maybe the flirting has gotten a little out of hand lately, but agreeing to go on a family vacation together and pretending to date is… a bad idea.

“You’d really pay for everything?” she asks carefully.

It’s a truly terrible idea. She shouldn’t even be considering it, especially with how the small crush she has on you has evolved into a massive one over the last couple of weeks.

You nod immediately. “I swear.”

Vi hums, pretending to think harder than she actually needs to.

The idea of spending two weeks beside you makes her brain short-circuit over and over again. Dinner with your family, being together every waking moment, sharing a room—

It’s a dangerous move.

“Scale of one to ten, how convincing do we have to be?” Vi props her chin against her fist. “Like full romcom?”

You stare at her for a second too long, and Vi grins to hide how nervous she is inside.

What are you two getting into?

“Okay, don’t forget the—,” you stop yourself, brows furrowing as you realize Vi’s not even looking your way. “Violet! Are you even listening?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re not. And stop smiling so much.”

Vi glances over at you as the two of you step through the airport entrance, sunglasses pushed up into her pink hair and travel bag hanging lazily from one shoulder.

“I’m excited for my free vacation.”

“I need you to focus,” you mutter, adjusting the grip on your suitcase. “My mom’s a hugger, my dad’s obsessed with music, and if Mia starts talking about essential oils just nod and smile.”

Vi snorts. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t let Ana convince you she’s allowed to drink soda after eight… and no, she can’t join you at the Casino no matter how good she is at Blackjack.”

“That kid sounds cool.”

“She’s terrifying.”

Vi laughs quietly beside you. She’s far too relaxed for someone who will pretend to date her coworker in front of her entire family for ten days. You, on the other end, feel one minor inconvenience away from throwing up.

You risk another glance at her and immediately regret it.

She’s wearing a loose black tank top, tattoos fully visible and insanely looking beneath the airport lighting.  It’s like she had walked straight out of some annoying vacation ad, rings glinting every time she adjusts her grip on her duffel bag, looking so attractive and—

God. This was a more-than-terrible idea.

“You’re doing it again,” Vi says suddenly, and you blink in confusion.

“What?”

She points at you with a mischievous smile on her lips. “Your eyebrows scrunch together when you’re spiraling.”

“They do not.”

“They absolutely do.”

You groan softly, dragging a hand down your face. “I just… I need this trip to go well.”

“It will.”

“You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t,” Vi agrees, glancing back at you. “But I know you.”

The words hit harder than they probably should. Around you, the airport buzzes with overlapping announcements and chatter, but your brain feels weirdly narrowed in on the way Vi is looking at you.

She studies your expression for a moment. Slightly furrowed eyebrows and lower lip slightly pumped with how hard you’ve been biting at it minutes ago, nervousness clear in all your features.

Vi bumps her shoulder lightly against yours, holding out her hand toward you. “We got this, sweetheart.”

You stare at it for a second too long, and she notices immediately.

“Gotta play the part.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat, “Yeah.”

After one more second of hesitation, you slide your hand into hers. Warm fingers immediately lace between yours naturally, like this is something you’ve done a hundred times before.

Vi’s mouth twitches up as your breath catches embarrassingly hard, and her thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles. She tries to convince herself she does it to play the perfect performance, obviously.

The two of you make your way through the busy terminal together. Heat crawls violently up your neck as you spot your gate number overhead. God, Vi’s already got you all flustered and you haven’t even introduced her to your family yet.

“There they are!” your mom’s voice rings out across the terminal before your brain can spiral any further.

A small group stands near the gate with stacked luggage and coffee cups in hand. Your dad’s waving enthusiastically already, your mom already walking over to you with a wide grin on her face. Luca and Ana are sitting on the floor, both of them playing on their iPads, while Matt, their dad, stands a couple of feet away from everyone.

Mia glances up at the commotion, eyes squinting the second she spots you. Her eyes land on Vi, and she lets out an exasperated groan before looking down at her own phone.

“Oh, you made it,” your mom says warmly, pulling you into a quick one-armed hug before immediately turning toward Vi.

Her expression lights up immediately.

“She’s gorgeous!”

Vi’s taken aback as your mom pulls her into a tight hug before she can even properly introduce herself. Her chest tightens, surely because your mom is holding her so warmly. It has nothing to do with you having let go of her hand when she was just getting used to it.

“You didn’t tell me your girlfriend was this pretty,” your mom mutters, still holding onto Vi’s shoulders as she looks her over delightedly.

“Mom,” you mumble weakly, face burning up.

Vi bites down hard on a grin before she hugs your mom back. You shoot her a warning look immediately.

“Hi,” Vi recovers quickly enough to flash your mom one of her stupidly charming smiles as soon as she pulls away, “It’s really nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh, sweetie, call me Eve.”

Your dad appears next, pulling you into a quick hug before looking at Vi with open curiosity.

“So, you’re the mysterious girlfriend.”

“Mysterious?”

“She was keeping you a secret,” he says dramatically, pointing accusingly at you. “We didn’t know you existed until, like, three weeks ago.”

“Is that so?” Vi turns to look at you.

“I— Uh, sorry, babe,” the nickname feels weird on your mouth, but you notice the amusement in Vi’s expression as soon as it comes out.

“Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”

The smugness in her voice makes your eye twitch.

Meanwhile, Mia still hasn’t moved from where she’s sitting, though she is very obviously listening now despite pretending to scroll through her phone. Matt gives Vi a polite nod, and Luca is the first to actually look up from his iPad.

He elbows Ana, who gasps loudly enough to scare everyone around her.

“AUNTIE Y/N, IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“Yes,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes briefly. “Ana, please be nice.”

Ana ignores you completely, immediately scrambling to her feet and running over. Vi barely has time to react before your niece stops directly in front of her, staring up with open fascination.

“You have pink hair!”

“I do.”

“That’s so freaking cool.”

“Thanks,” Vi shoots her a warm smile. The kid reminds her of Powder when she was little.

Ana narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “Could you beat my aunt on a fight?”

Vi glances sideways at you.

You sigh. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I could take her,” Vi says confidently.

Luca finally wanders over too, quieter than his sister but equally curious. He hugs your leg, peering at Vi as you gently stroke his hair.

“You’re really Auntie Y/N’s girlfriend?”

Your stomach twists unexpectedly at the question. Beside you, Vi’s fingers brush lightly against yours again. She hesitates for a moment before fully taking your hand back into hers.

This is something she could absolutely get used to.

“I am.”

Ana immediately beams. “Cool. Mom said you were probably fake.”

“Mia!” your mom snaps, turning to look at her with furrowed brows.

“What?” your sister calls from across the waiting area, not even looking up from her phone. “I said probably.”

You stare at the floor in horror as your mom starts scolding your sister, your nephews trying to get Vi’s attention, your brother-in-law busy in his own world. How are you going to survive ten days of this?

Beside you, Vi starts laughing. “Oh, I’m gonna love this trip.”

By the time the two of you finally make it to the resort, you’re pretty sure you’ve aged at least five years. Between Ana asking Vi two hundred questions during the flight, your mom wanting to know every detail of your relationship, and Mia watching the two of you like she was waiting for you to spontaneously combust, your brain feels dangerously close to shutting down.

The hotel room door clicks open, and you step inside.

“Shit,” you stop dead on your track.

Vi walks in behind you, following your line of sight toward the massive king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room.

“Ooh, nice.”

You turn slowly. “Nice?”

“What?” Vi shrugs innocently, acting as if her heart isn’t about to burst out from her chest with how fast it’s beating. “I’ve never slept on a bed this huge and comfortable before.”

And next to you, she keeps that part to herself.

Your suitcase drops beside the couch with a dull thud as you drag both hands down your face dramatically.

“Of course they would get us one bed, we’re a couple,” you let out a humorless chuckle. “This is a disaster.”

“Oh, relax,” Vi kicks the door shut behind her before wandering farther into the room. “I don’t drool in my sleep, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You flop backward onto the mattress with a groan instead of answering. The bed is very soft, and you wonder if Vi’s strong arms are just as soft or—

“This is all your fault somehow,” you mumble into one of the pillows, cheeks warming up as you try to ignore your own thoughts.

Vi laughs quietly as she starts unpacking some of her stuff onto the dresser.

“You’re the one who hired me, babe,” she tests out the nickname, humming in satisfaction. “So, are you a drooler?”

You throw a pillow at her head, and she catches it easily. A smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it.

“Seriously though,” Vi’s voice is softer now, and you look away as soon as she turns toward you. “You okay?”

You stare up at the ceiling for a second too long. “…I don’t know.”

That wipes some of the teasing from her expression immediately.

“The trip just…” You exhale slowly. “It always turns into a mess somehow. Now we’re lying to my entirely family, Mia already thinks we’re fake, and—”

You turn your head slightly to look at her.

“And I dragged you into it.”

“Please,” she gestures around the room, a wide grin taking over her expression. “I’m at a beach resort for free. I’m thriving.”

Despite yourself, a small laugh escapes you. Vi’s chest tightens at the sound, and she can’t help but follow suit.

“There she is.”

Before she can figure out what to do with that feeling, a knock suddenly interrupts the moment.

Vi glances toward the door. “Are we expecting someone?”

“No?”

There’s another knock. You freeze instantly, sitting up straighter on the bed, as Vi crosses the room.

“Vi, wait—”

It’s too late. Vi swings the door open, her body positioned perfectly so whoever is standing outside of your room can’t peek inside.

“Oh,” Mia seems surprised, clearly having expected to see you instead of Vi. “Is Y/N here?”

Vi glances back toward the bed where you’re still half-sprawled against the blankets. She noticed your sister holding one of the kid’s backpacks, so she needs to think fast on how to get you out of an unexpected babysitting job on your first day of vacation.

“She’s asleep,” she says easily. “What’s up?”

Mia sighs dramatically. “Matt and I wanted to go try that seafood place down the beach tonight. We were wondering if Ana and Luca could stay here.”

Of course this is happening already. Not even your fake girlfriend, the one your family doesn’t even know is fake, will work on your sister.

You start moving instinctively, ready to say yes before the argument even starts, when Vi speaks again.

“Oh, shoot. Sorry, we already made dinner plans.”

You blink in confusion, but your movements halt altogether.

Mia frowns immediately. “I thought you said Y/N’s asleep.”

“Yeah,” Vi leans casually against the doorframe without missing a beat. “She’s resting before we head out later. Long flight, y’know?”

There’s a tiny pause. There’s no way she’s giving up, she will talk Vi’s ear off until she eventually agrees and—

“I’m probably gonna nap too,” Vi adds with an easy smile. “Anything else I can help with?”

You stare at the back of her head in disbelief.

Mia looks annoyed for exactly half a second before forcing a tight smile. “Right. Okay.”

“Maybe tomorrow?” Vi offers politely.

“Sure.”

There’s another awkward pause before your sister finally turns and walks away down the hallway. Vi lets out a long whistle as she shuts the hotel room door again, slowly turning around to face you.

You’re staring at her with widened eyes, still frozen on the bed.

“…what?”

“You said no.”

“Yeah.”

“To Mia.”

Via blinks once, confusion clear in her gaze. “Did you want me to say yes?”

“No, but—” you stop, genuinely thrown off. She had made it look so easy. “You actually said no.”

Vi’s expression softens slightly with understanding. She walks toward the bed slowly, brows furrowing in concern as she takes in how puzzled you look.

“You said you wanted one vacation where you finally get to have some peace, right?” she says, and your chest tightens painfully at the gentleness in her voice. “I’ll take care of it. All you have to do is relax.”

She sits down next to you, and you only stare at her for a moment. Nobody’s ever stepped in before you had to, so it’s nice to know what it feels like to have somebody on your side.

Vi nudges your knee lightly with hers, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Now,” she starts, lighter again, “since I accidentally committed to fake dinner plans…”

You let out a chuckle. The sound makes Vi’s heart skip a beat, and she feels relieved now that she sees you let your walls down.

“Wanna go get actual dinner?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” a grin spreads slowly across her face. “If I’m pretending to be your girlfriend, I expect at least one expensive dinner out of this arrangement.”

You roll your eyes, though the warmth through your chest makes it hard to put any real annoyance behind it.

“Give me twenty minutes,” you stand up, grabbing your suitcase and heading toward the bathroom.

“Take thirty,” she mumbles, reaching out for her duffel bag. “I gotta make myself look hot enough to impress your family, just in case we bump into them at the lobby.”

“Please. You already captivated my mother by existing.”

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You snort softly before disappearing into the bathroom. The second the door clicks shut behind you, you lean heavily against the sink.

It’s okay, you can do this. It’s just Vi. You’re very attractive coworker who’s pretending to be your girlfriend and keeps calling you sweetheart. No problem at all.

You splash some water onto your face before starting to get ready.

By the time you finish changing into a light outfit more suited for the warm beach air, your nerves have settled at least a little. That confidence lasts just until you open the bathroom door and walk directly into a problem: Vi standing beside the bed with her back partially turned toward you, shirtless and half-ready.

Broad shoulders, tattooed back and low-slung linen pants hanging dangerously from her hips while she digs through her suitcase looking for another shirt. The view alone makes your brain stop functioning.

“Oh,” you blurt out.

Vi glances over her shoulder, and now it’s her the one who’s short-circuiting.

You look unfairly good. Your hair’s still slightly damp from fixing it, you’re wearing softer and more relaxed clothes than what she’s used to seeing at work, your skin warm beneath the hotel lights.

“Sorry,” you close your eyes dramatically, turning your back toward her to give her some privacy.

Vi finally pulls on a dark short-sleeved button up, leaving the first few buttons undone casually before running a hand through her hair.

“’S fine,” she clears her throat. “You ready?”

“Yep,” you answer way too quickly.

“Cool,” Vi grabs the room key before holding the door open dramatically for you. You finally take a good look at her, and your heart skips embarrassingly hard again. “After you, sweetheart.”

God help you.

Dinner turns out surprisingly nice. The restaurant sits right on the beach, warm lantern lights reflecting softly against the ocean while waves crash quietly somewhere beyond the patio.

For the first time all day, you feel at ease. There’s no family drama, no need to pretend for an audience, no pressure at all. Just you and Vi sitting across from each other, sharing appetizers and teasing each other over overpriced resort drinks.

“Wait, wait,” Vi stares at you in disbelief, a mischievous glint on her eye. “You got banned from laser tag?”

“The employee was being dramatic.”

“You climbed into the ceiling vents.”

“I was twelve!”

“Nah,” she shakes her head in fake disappointment, “That’s way too old to think you’re freaking Spider-Man.”

You laugh loudly enough that a couple nearby glances over, and Vi’s chest tightens unexpectedly at the sound. She likes making you laugh, maybe a little too much.

The conversation flows strangely easily after that. So far, Vi has picked up on a couple of cues: you hum absentmindedly while reading menus, steal fries without asking and how your eyes crinkle when you laugh hard enough. You’re so much softer outside of work, and she can’t have enough of this version of you already.

You learn how much she hates sunscreen and how instantly she burns, and how badly she wanted a motorcycle at sixteen. You’ve also learned she’s never actually traveled outside of the country before, which popped the idea of going on a different vacation sometime in the future. If the fake-girlfriend gig is still needed, of course.

By the time the two of you walk back toward the hotel, the earlier tension has melted into a warmer feeling.

“I’m showering first,” you mumble tiredly as soon as you step inside the room, already grabbing pajamas from your bag.

“Be my guest.”

The warm water helps wash away the exhaustion from the flight and the emotional chaos of the day. Sleep is already dragging heavily at your limbs as you finish changing into an oversized shirt and shorts.

Vi’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone when you walk out. Her eyes lift immediately and soften as she notices how sleepy you look. And cute, but she tries to shake the thought off her mind.

“You’re falling asleep standing up,” she mutters, shooting you a soft smile.

You yawn in response, proving her point instantly.

“Bed’s all yours for now,” she says, standing up and grabbing her own clothes.

You mumble something vaguely coherent before crawling beneath the blankets, the mattress sinking warmly around you almost immediately.

You try waiting up for Vi, you really do. But between hearing the bathroom water start running and the exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drift shut.

When Vi steps out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, with a towel hanging loosely around her neck, the room is quiet.

A small smile tugs at her mouth before she can stop it as she takes you in. The steady rise and fall of your breathing, the softness in your expression, how you’ve somehow managed to steal almost the entire blanket already.

Vi stands there for a moment longer than necessary, just looking at you curled up comfortably against the pillows. A warm, very familiar feeling settles in her chest, and it almost scares her.

Quietly, she grabs one of the spare blankets from the closet and tosses it onto the couch. She doesn’t want to risk waking you up after the day you’ve had, nor letting that uncomfortable feeling keep growing stronger.

Besides, the couch can’t even be that bad.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the bed is empty. Your brows furrow, squinting at the sunlight already pouring through the curtains.

“Vi?”

There’s no answer. Still half-asleep, you sit up slowly, hair a mess and shirt slipping off one shoulder as you look around the room properly. No Vi in the bathroom or balcony, you’d almost think everything was part of a livid dream if it weren’t for her suitcase on the room.

You grab your phone, quickly opening up your chat with her to see if there’s any unread messages. None at all.

you: where are you??

Your phone buzzes almost immediately, and you let out a disappointed groan as you realize the notification comes from the family group chat.

mom💕: Breakfast buffet downstairs!! 🍽 Everyone come join us 😋🙏

Attached beneath it is a blurry picture of your dad holding three plates of pastries for absolutely no reason. Most probably, one for your mom and two for him— you place a mental note on speaking to him about lowering his sugar intake.

You glance around the room again, and your stomach twists lightly. Family breakfast, and Vi is nowhere to be found.

you: vi are you alive?

After a couple of more unanswered texts, you hurry through getting ready, brushing your teeth in record time before changing into something casual. The entire time, your phone stays suspiciously silent.

By the time you leave the room, mild worry has started creeping into your chest. What if she got lost? What if she decided this was too much to deal with and took a plane back home? Oh God, what if Ana found her and challenged her to hand-to-hand combat?

You pull your phone again as soon as you walk out of the elevator, walking through the hotel lobby and calling Vi before you can overthink it over.

You look up, line ringing just as you spot her sitting at one of the outdoor tables near the restaurant windows, sunglasses perched on top of her head while she leans comfortably back in her chair. She’s already having breakfast… with your parents.

Your dad’s mid-conversation with her already, and your mom looks delighted. You hadn’t realized she had picked up the call until her voice hits your ear.

“Hey, baby.”

She looks toward the elevators, face brightening as she makes eye contact with you.

“There you are,” she lifts her free arm to wave you over lazily. “C’mere.”

You hang up quickly before approaching the table, trying very hard to ignore the fact that your heartbeat has suddenly piked up. This is deeply embarrassing.

“Well, good morning,” your mom greets you the second you reach them. “Look who finally decided to wake up.”

“She was exhausted yesterday,” Vi hops in before you can answer.

Your mom’s expression softens immediately. “Aw.”

You stare at Vi, who shoots you an innocent smile before taking a sip of her coffee. The morning sunlight catches against her, warming the sharp lines of her face. She looks completely at home sitting there beside your parents, one arm draped lazily over the back of her chair.

God, she’s doing it on purpose.

Well. Two can play this game.

You put on the sweetest smile you can manage, leaning down before your brain can stop you and pressing a quick kiss against Vi’s cheek as you slide into the seat beside her. The contact lasts barely a second— warm skin, faint traces of her perfume and the surprise inhale she takes beside you.

She freezes instantly, subtle enough that your parents probably don’t notice. Her shoulders tense for half a heartbeat, and a faint flush spreads across the tops of her cheeks almost immediately, pink dusting over her face and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt.

Your own stomach flips violently at the realization that you caused that.

Your mom watches the interaction with undisguised excitement.

“You two are adorable.”

Heat floods instantly to your face. Vi clears her throat, trying to recover from whatever just happened to her mere seconds ago.

“You know, Vi,” your mom continues, leaning toward her conspiratorially, “she’s never brought anyone on these trips before, so you must be super special.”

“Mom,” you give her a warning look.

“What? It’s true!”

Vi glances at you with obvious amusement, far too pleased with herself. “Really?”

“Please ignore her.”

“Oh, I could never.”

You groan softly, dropping your forehead briefly against Vi’s shoulder in defeat before realizing what you just did. Slowly, you lift your head, a faint pink tint dusting across your cheeks now, too.

Cute, Vi thinks to herself. Very cute.

Before either of you can say anything else, more voices approach the table. Mia and Matt arrive with the kids trailing behind them, both looking significantly less awake than everyone else.

Ana spots Vi instantly.

“YOU LEFT WITHOUT SAYING GOOD NIGHT.”

Several nearby tables glance over, and Vi lets out a low chuckle.

“Inside voice, kiddo.”

Ana ignores that completely before climbing into the chair beside her, grabbing a waffle from your dad’s plate. Luca quickly comes running toward you, settling down on your lap as he gives you a gentle hug.

“Well,” Mia reaches for coffee, eyes flicking between you and Vi briefly, “Matt and I are gonna have breakfast and then head down to the beach for a while.”

Your stomach tightens instinctively, and you prep yourself for what’s about to come.

“So, you guys can take the kids after this.”

The words hit automatically enough that you already open your mouth to answer.

“Sure, we can—”

“Actually,” Vi cuts in smoothly before you can finish, “we already have plans for this morning.”

Mia blinks once, grabbing the mug strongly. “Oh.”

Vi smiles apologetically. “Maybe we could take them around noon instead?”

Ana gasps instantly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vi nudges her slightly with her shoulder. “There’s an arcade place near the pools. We gotta check it out.”

Your niece looks ready to explode from excitement, even Luca perks up immediately. Meanwhile, Mia’s expression flickers through several emotions at once: annoyance, calculation and, finally, reluctant satisfaction.

“Noon works for us.”

By the time the sun starts setting, both kids are half-dead with exhaustion.

Ana had spent an hour trying to beat Vi at air hockey and losing spectacularly every single time, while Luca had attached himself to your side for most of the afternoon after winning an absurd amount of tickets at the arcade. They had eaten as much pizza as they could, and honestly? It had been incredibly fun.

Which explains why you’re smiling when the four of you stop outside Mia and Matt’s hotel room later that evening.

Ana groans dramatically the second the door opens.

“I don’t wanna leave.”

“Had fun?” Mia asks, stepping aside to let the kids in.

“So much fun,” Luca steps inside, stopping only to wave goodbye at Vi and you before heading toward the bed.

Matt is sitting on the couch, looking significantly more relaxed than in the morning, currently holding a takeout drink and wearing swim trunks. Mia’s gaze flicks between you and Vi before settling somewhere closer to neutral than annoyed for the first time during the trip.

“Thanks for taking them,” she almost sounds surprised by her own sincerity.

Vi shrugs, ruffling Ana’s hair. “They’re cool.”

The little girl beams instantly at that before running into the room. “We’re playing Mario Kart tomorrow!”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Vi calls after her. “You play dirty!”

“I learned from my aunt!”

“Ah, that explains a lot.”

You snort softly beside her, elbowing her playfully. Mia watches the interaction for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing her face before she finally shakes her head.

“Goodnight, guys.”

“Night, sis.”

The door clicks shut behind her, and the hallway feels much quieter almost immediately.

You and Vi start walking toward your room side by side, shoulders brushing every now and then as you move through the warmly lit corridor. As soon as the two of you walk into the room, Vi kicks off her shoes with a relieved groan.

“I think I’ll need a foot transplant.”

“Geez, you’re so dramatic.”

“And yet you still like me.”

The words slip out so casually that neither of you reacts at first.

Then, it hits. Vi’s breath catches almost imperceptibly as her own sentence registers in her brain, eyes widening just slightly before she looks away too fast to make it seem natural. Shit.

Your stomach flips because the worst part is that your first instinct isn’t to deny it. A warm rush spreads through your chest at hearing her say it so naturally, and the room suddenly feels smaller, warmer, quieter.

You become painfully aware of the sound of the air conditioner humming softly, the lingering warmth where your shoulders brushed, the way Vi’s hair is still messy from playing with the kids in the afternoon.

Vi clears her throat first, rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck.

“I mean,” her voice comes out rougher than expected, “as a person. Obviously.”

You swallow once, pulse thudding embarrassingly hard against your ribs.

“Obviously,” you echo, hoping your voice sounds steadier than you feel.

To save yourself from further humiliation, you disappear into the bathroom to get changed. When you come back out a few minutes later, Vi’s sitting at the edge of the bed scrolling through her phone.

She glances up as soon as she hears the bathroom door opening, and there’s that soft look again. The one that keeps catching you off guard.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

“Nothing.”

It’s just you look so fucking adorable. Of course she can’t tell you that.

You climb onto the bed beside her, exhaustion finally starting to settle heavily into your bones after the long day. For a moment, neither of you says anything.

“…thanks.”

Vi looks over at you, brows furrowing in confusion.

“For today,” you explain, fiddling absentmindedly with the edge of the blanket. “For helping with Mia, the kids and… for everything.”

Her expression softens almost painfully. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“Still,” you glance toward her. “You’ve made this trip a lot easier.”

Vi holds your gaze for a second too long before looking away with a small shrug. She hopes you didn’t notice her ears burning up with every word that left your mouth.

“Nah,” she mumbles lightly, though there’s warmth tucked underneath the words. “I like hanging out with you.”

By day five, at some point between shared breakfasts, late-night conversations, and Vi instinctively reaching for your hand even when your family was nowhere to be seen, pretending starts feeling dangerously easy.

You don’t even think twice when Vi lazily hooks her arm around your shoulders while the group walks through the marina that afternoon. Tourists move around the dock taking pictures of the ocean and nearby cliffs. Warm sunlight glitters against the water, salt lingering in the air every time the breeze rolls through.

Your dad is already taking approximately a thousand photos of everything. Your mom keeps stopping to point out cute spots around the harbor. Ana’s currently holding onto your hand, trying to convince you to buy matching shark keychains. And Luca, surprisingly, is sitting comfortably on Vi’s shoulders while she walks.

You stare at them for a second longer than necessary, because Luca doesn’t do that. It takes him forever to warm up to people. He barely lets relatives hug him half the time, usually glued to your side whenever he gets overwhelmed.

But now? He’s sitting happily above Vi with both little hands tangled in her pink hair while she complains loudly about becoming a “human playground”.

“She’s too tall, Auntie Y/N,” Luca says seriously from above.

“You hear that?” Vi looks at you in betrayal. “I risk carrying him around and he says that about me?”

“You’re right, I’ll fix it,” you nod, looking up at your nephew. “Luca, she’s not even that tall.”

She lets out a scoff, shaking her head with fake indignation. “This is the respect I get?”

You snort softly beside her, and the sound makes Vi glance sideways at you automatically. There it is again, that warm feeling in her chest every time she makes you laugh. It catches her off guard every single time.

The soft crinkle near your eyes, the way your shoulders relax when you’re genuinely amused, the quiet laugh you try to hold back and always fail to. Somehow, all of it has started feeling addicting. It’s dangerous, because Vi has realized she’d do almost anything to keep hearing that sound.

“Oh!” your mom suddenly exclaims from a few steps ahead. “How lovely!”

A small photography stand has been set up near the dock entrance, decorated with simple vacation photos in island-themed frames and plastic keychains shaped like hearts and palm trees.

One of the photographers waves enthusiastically the second he spots your group approaching.

“Family pictures! We make keychains too!”

Your mom gasps like she’s just discovered treasure. “We absolutely need those.”

Your dad is already pulling out his wallet before anyone even agrees. Within seconds, everyone’s getting shuffled toward the little backdrop while the photographer starts enthusiastically positioning all of you around.

“Okay, whole family first!”

Instinctively, Vi takes a small step backward.

“Oh, I’ll just—” she gestures vaguely behind her, already starting to move away. “I’ll let you guys have the family one.”

Before she can fully step out, your mom grabs her wrist gently.

“Honey,” she says warmly, looking genuinely confused by the suggestion. “Nonsense. You are part of the family.”

Vi stills, and the noise around the dock feels strangely distant for half a second.

Part of the family.

The words hit deep in her chest unexpectedly hard. There’s no teasing tone in your mom’s voice, she actually means it.

Vi glances you toward you automatically, and softness flickers across your expression when you realize how affected she looks by the comment.

“C’mon,” you murmur gently. “Get over here.”

She lets herself be tugged into place beside you.

And for some reason, standing there with your family crowded around her —your dad already complaining about camera angles, Ana trying to make bunny ears behind her dad’s head, Luca clutching your hand— feels incredibly nice.

The camera flashes several times while everyone laughs through increasingly chaotic poses. Then come the individual photos.

Your parents insist on taking one together, your dad kissing your mom’s cheek dramatically enough to make her laugh so hard she nearly ruins the picture. Ana poses like a tiny celebrity for hers.

Luca hides behind your leg for the first two attempts until Vi crouches beside him and quietly promises they can make “the weirdest face possible” together. The resulting photo is terrible, but you immediately declare it your favorite.

Then Mia and Matt take theirs, with your sister grabbing her husband’s face and giving him a kiss that makes both kids gag in horror.

Your mom turns toward you and Vi again. “You two need your own set now.”

“Oh, it’s not—”

“But it is,” your mom cuts you in, already pushing you two in front of the camera. “You barely have any photos together!”

Ana gasps loudly. “They gotta kiss like everyone else!”

Your entire body heats instantly. Beside you, Vi goes suspiciously quiet again.

“Ana…”

“What? Couples kiss!”

“Fair point,” your dad agrees, unfortunately for the two of you.

Vi slowly steps closer beside you while Luca wanders back toward Mia, already distracted by something else near the dock. Your pulse starts hammering harder the second Vi’s hand settles carefully against your back.

“You don’t have to,” she mutters under her breath, barely audible beneath the chatter around you.

Somehow that makes it infinitely worse, because she’s giving you a choice. Because you can tell she’s nervous, too. And because some reckless part of you wants to know what kissing Vi actually feels like.

Your arm slips around her shoulders automatically, fingertips brushing lightly against the warm skin at the back of her neck.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back before you can overthink it.

Vi inhales softly. Then, slowly and carefully, you lean in.

The kiss is gentle, tentative at first. Her brain is short-circuiting and is barely registering what it’s actually happening— your warm lips, the salty air, the way your hand tightens unconsciously against her shoulder.

Then she kisses you back more firmly. It’s still soft and brief, but it’s enough to send heat rushing violently through your entire body. Your stomach flips so hard it’s almost dizzying.

The camera flashes.

“Awww!”

“EWWW,” Ana yells at the exact same time.

You and Vi pull apart a little too quickly, both visibly flustered now. She clears her throat hard, suddenly very interested in the boats behind you while a faint pink flush spreads across her cheeks.

You can still feel the ghost of her lips against yours, and judging by the way Vi keeps avoiding your eyes, she can too.

The room is quiet when you step out of the bathroom later that night, steam still clinging faintly to your skin as you rub a towel through your damp hair.

For a second, you think Vi’s already asleep. Then, you properly look around the room and blink, puzzled as you find her settled on the couch.

“Vi?”

She glances up immediately, one arm tucked behind her head while the hotel TV plays some low-volume reality show in the background.

“Sup?”

“Why are you sleeping there?”

She pauses, genuinely not expecting that question. Suddenly, several things click together in your brain at once— the spare blanket disappearing from the closet, the couch pillows always being slightly out of place every morning, the fact that every single night you’d fallen asleep first and every single morning Vi’s the first one to wake up.

“Oh my God,” you mumble, horrified. “Have you been sleeping on the couch this whole time?”

Vi rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. “Um, yeah.”

“Vi, that couch is tiny.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

You smack your own forehead in disbelief. “How did I not realize?”

“You’re usually unconscious by the time I’m ready for bed,” a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“Still! You should’ve said something.”

“Meh, it wasn’t a big deal.”

You take another good look at the couch, and realize it absolutely is a big deal. One of Vi’s legs is literally hanging off the edge.

“You’re not sleeping there anymore,” you decide immediately.

“What?”

“Come sleep in the bed.”

The words leave your mouth with significantly more confidence than you actually feel. Now that it’s out there, your brain starts catching up with the implications.

Vi’s eyes flick toward the mattress briefly before landing back on you. There’s a faint pink tint creeping across her cheeks again. Huh, you’re kind of loving this look on her.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you answer quickly. “Like… c’mon. We can survive sharing a bed.”

Vi huffs out a quiet laugh, nervousness hidden underneath it.

You climb beneath the blankets first, mostly because you need somewhere to put your face for a moment while your heartbeat completely loses it. A minute later, the mattress dips carefully beside you. Immediately, every nerve in your body becomes hyperaware.

“So,” Vi starts, speaking in a low voice. “That was a convincing kiss, wasn’t it?”

Oh, you’re going to pass away.

“Shut up,” your entire face burns.

She laughs softly again, and the sound settles strangely deep in your chest.

“It was still nice,” she admits quietly, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating.

You turn your head slightly before you can stop yourself, and find Vi already looking at you. She’s close enough that you can make out the softer details of her face beneath the dim bedside lamp— sleepy eyes, messy pink hair, the faint flush still lingering across her cheeks.

“You’re a jerk, anyone ever tell you that?” you whisper back, the air between you dangerously delicate.

“Yeah, you. All the time.”

Eventually, exhaustion catches up to both of you. The conversation fades into softer teasing and slower replies, until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

Several hours later, morning sunlight spills warmly across the bed when you start waking up. At first, all you register is warmth, but soon comes the weight. And then, a heartbeat.

Your eyes blink open slowly, and immediately widen. At some point during the night, you and Vi had ended up tangled together. Your face is buried against her chest, one of her arms is wrapped securely around your waist, and your leg is halfway thrown over hers.

She’s still asleep, holding you instinctively closer every couple of breaths. Your heart stumbles violently against your chest, and you try to shift around slowly as to not wake her up.

As if sensing movement, Vi shifts slightly against you with a sleepy groan. Her arm tightens unconsciously around your waist, and her face presses softly into your hair.

The breath leaves your lungs entirely. She’s so warm, and you can feel the way her fingers curl against your side like she’s scared you’ll drift away.

This is a bad, bad, bad idea.

Instead of pulling away immediately like any other person would, your first instinct is to melt closer just for another second. Vi makes another quiet sound in her sleep, brows furrowing faintly before relaxing again when you stop moving.

Then slowly, very slowly, Vi starts waking up too. You feel it happen in real time: the sleepy shift of her breathing, her hand flexing once against your waist, the gradual tension returning to her body as awareness kicks in.

“Oh,” her voice comes out rough with sleep, barely above a whisper. “Hi.”

You squeeze your eyes shut briefly. “Hi.”

Morning sunlight spills across the sheets, warming the bed around you while the air conditioner hums in the background. Somewhere outside, muffled voices and distant ocean waves drift up from the beach below.

But all Vi can focus on is you.

You’re still tucked impossibly close against her chest, hair messy from sleep, face warm from embarrassment, and Vi feels the strong impulse to kiss you again. She’s pretty sure this trip might actually kill her.

She swallows once, pulse thudding loudly against her throat.

“Did you drool on me?” she murmurs weakly, clearly grasping for literally anything to say.

Your head snaps up immediately. “I did not!”

Vi lets out a sleepy laugh, low and warm beneath you. The sound vibrates through her chest straight into your ribs, and your entire body heats instantly.

One of your hands is resting against her stomach, your knee is tangled between hers, and neither of you has made any real effort to move away yet. The realization hits you at once, and you scramble backward immediately.

The blankets tangle around your legs, nearly sending you straight off the mattress before Vi catches your wrist on instinct.

“Careful!” her hand wraps around yours automatically, pulling you back.

She releases you a second later, only after making sure you’re not about to throw yourself off the bed by accident, clearing her throat roughly before sitting up too quickly.

“Right,” she mumbles, dragging a hand through her already messy hair. “So, breakfast in thirty minutes?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you looks at the other as you stand up to get ready, which would probably work better if both your heartbeats weren’t still absolutely out of control.

The restaurant buzzes softly with warm evening chatter, and somewhere nearby, someone laughs loudly enough to make Ana giggle. Lantern lights cast everything in soft gold while the ocean glimmers darkly beyond the railing.

By now, sitting beside Vi feels so natural you don’t even think about it anymore.

Your knee presses lightly against hers beneath the table while everyone looks over menus and talks over each other. Luca’s half-asleep against Vi’s side already, curled into her arm after spending the entire afternoon attached to her hip.

“You spoil them too much,” Mia mutters, though there’s far less bite to it than there used to be.

Vi looks genuinely offended. “Excuse you. I’m their favorite now.”

Ana claps happily from across the table. “You are!”

“Traitor,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Auntie Vi got me extra fries.”

Vi stills for the smallest fraction of a second, the nickname landing somewhere deep in her chest before she could prepare for it.

Warmth spreads through her so suddenly it almost catches her off guard. She’s been called a lot of things in her life —some affectionate, some definitely not so nice— but hearing Ana’s tiny excited voice does something unfairly soft to her heart.

Luca shifts sleepily against her side at the same moment, his small hand still curled loosely in the fabric of her shirt, and her chest squeezes painfully hard.

God. This family is going to ruin her.

She tries to play it off casually, leaning back in her chair with an easy grin despite the warmth blooming across her face.

“I’m the cool aunt, then.”

“Oh,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s all it takes? A couple of fries?”

Vi leans slightly closer beside you, voice lowering. “Honestly? Yeah.”

Your stomach flips stupidly at the warmth of her lips brushing your skin. It keeps happening whenever she gets close to you, and neither of you moves away anymore.

Across the table, your mom watches the interaction with an expression so fond it’s almost embarrassing.

“You two look really happy together.”

Your dad hums in agreement while looking through photos on his phone. “Best mood I’ve seen Y/N in during one of these trips.”

Heat creeps immediately up your neck. Beside you, Vi suddenly becomes very interested in her drink.

Ana squints suspiciously. “Why are your faces red?”

“It’s cause they’re old,” Matt answers immediately.

“Hey!” you and Vi say at the exact same time, which only makes everyone laugh harder.

Luca shifts sleepily against Vi with a tiny yawn. Without even thinking about it, she adjusts him carefully so he’s more comfortable, one hand rubbing gently up and down his back.

Suddenly, your dad’s face brightens as he turns his phone toward Vi, showing her some photos and videos of you when you were six. Crying at swimming lessons, at your first spelling bee, playing with your old dog. Even your mom hops in, telling Vi stories about how you used to be when you were just a kid.

You groan, covering your face briefly while everyone keeps laughing around the table. And the worst part? You’re happy. Over the last few days, this trip has stopped feeling like a survival show and started feeling like a warm and safe vacation you could actually enjoy.

Your gaze drifts sideways automatically toward Vi. She’s still smiling at the video your dad is showing, Luca asleep against her side, your family talking to her like she’s belonged there forever.

A sudden, terrifying thought hits you so hard it nearly steals the breath from your lungs.

You can picture this lasting. Not the trip. Her.

You look away quickly.

Across the table, Mia notices.

The last full day of the trip arrives far too quickly.

By noon, everyone’s gathered around the resort pool under bright sunlight and the constant sound of splashing water. You’re stretched comfortably across a lounge chair in your swimsuit, sunglasses pushed up into your hair. Nearby, Ana’s shrieking dramatically as Vi lifts her clean out of the pool.

“PUT ME DOWN, AUNTIE VI!”

“You kicked me first!” she argues back, grinning.

“In self-defense!”

Luca clings quietly to Vi’s back while she carries Ana around with one arm like she weighs nothing. The sight alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat. God, you’re in so much trouble.

Vi glances over toward you automatically, catching you staring. A grin spreads instantly across her face.

“You just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty or you gonna help me?”

“I’m busy,” you reply lazily. “I’m taking care of this chair now.”

Vi snorts, shaking her head before Luca whispers something in her ear. Her brows furrow.

“Shoot,” she mutters, having learned to filter out her curse words around the kids after Ana accused her of teaching them. “I left my sunscreen upstairs.”

“I can go get it,” you offer immediately, already sitting up.

Her expression softens in that way that keeps wrecking you lately. “Yeah?”

“I mean, you’re kinda busy being a human playground.”

Ana laughs loudly. “She LOVES being the human playground.”

“I absolutely do not.”

A chuckle slips out before you can stop it. Vi watches you for half a second too long, before splashing you with some water.

“Thanks, pretty girl.”

Heat rushes so fast into your face it almost hurts. Vi looks way too pleased with herself as she turns back toward the kids, as if she didn’t just completely mess with your brain.

You hate her.

You’re definitely in love with her.

The elevator upstairs gives you exactly enough time to attempt regaining your composure. By the time you make it back downstairs with Vi’s sunscreen, your face finally feels normal again.

At least, until you pass through the hotel lobby.

You recognize Mia’s voice immediately.

“…I’m just saying, Vi’s great with them.”

Your steps slow instinctively.

Matt hums in agreement somewhere nearby. “She’s awesome.”

“She is. Honestly, I didn’t expect to like her this much.”

“But?”

“She’s obviously amazing,” Mia continues, quieter now. “I just don’t see someone like Vi sticking around long-term.”

You freeze completely behind the corner wall.

“And Y/N… you know how she gets. I don’t want her getting hurt when Vi eventually leaves.”

By the time you walk back outside, the sunlight suddenly feels too bright, too warm. You barely hear Ana yelling your name as you walk toward the chairs again. The second Vi’s eyes land on you, her smile fades instantly. She can tell something’s off.

“What happened?” she asks quietly once Luca slides off her back.

“Nothing,” you avoid looking at her.

And suddenly, the rest of the afternoon feels wrong.

You laugh when you’re supposed to, smile when spoken to, even nod through conversations, but Vi notices every single crack. Every forced grin, every distant state, and every moment you stop reaching for her automatically.

By evening, the guilt and concern sitting in her chest has become unbearable.

The sun hangs low over the ocean while everyone walks along the shoreline after dinner. Waves roll gently across the sand while Ana and Luca run ahead collecting shells near your parents.

Somehow, eventually, you and Vi fall behind from the group. The ocean breeze cools your skin while your feet sink softly into damp sand, and Vi glances at you for a moment.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your chest tightens instantly at the nickname. You let out a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Vi slows beside you.

“Hey,” her voice softens. “Talk to me.”

You stare out at the darkening ocean, because you know you might break down if you look into her eyes and she gives you that look again.

“I overheard Mia and Matt earlier,” you admit in a low voice. “Speaking about you, about me… about us, I guess.”

Vi’s expression changes immediately. “What’d they say?”

You shrug tightly, arms crossing over your chest.

“That you’re great,” your throat tightens. “And that this probably won’t last.”

Vi goes still beside you. She’s staring at you in disbelief, a soft frown covering her features. You force another laugh.

“She’s right, though.”

“What?”

You shake your head quickly.

“Come on, Vi. Let’s be realistic for a second,” your voice comes harsher now. “I’m single for a reason.”

Vi’s face hardens instantly. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That, this,” she steps closer toward you through the sand, frustration flashing openly across her face now. “Talking about yourself this way.”

You let out another hollow laugh, though it sounds shakier this time.

“I mean, come on,” you gesture vaguely between the two of you. “I had to ask a coworker to pretend to date me for a stupid family trip. How fucking lame am I?”

Vi stares at you like you just said something genuinely upsetting.

“Y/N.”

“She didn’t even mean it in a bad way,” you continue before she can speak again. “She just knows me.”

Vi scoffs incredulously. “No offense, but your sister’s an idiot.”

Despite everything sitting heavy inside your chest, your mouth twitches faintly.

“She thinks you’ll realize this whole thing isn’t worth it eventually,” you admit quietly. “If only she knew we were pretending this whole time.”

Her expression changes completely, like the idea itself offends her.

“Are you serious right now?”

You finally look at her then, and immediately regret it because she’s staring at you with so much intensity it almost knocks the air from your lungs.

“You know what your problem is?” her voice comes out tougher than she intends, frustration and vulnerability tangle underneath it. “You act like you’re difficult to love when you’re not.”

Vi steps closer enough that you can see the tension in her jaw and the way her hands flex uselessly at her sides whenever she has too much she wants to say and no idea where to even start.

“It’s actually kind of insane,” she says softly now, shaking her head once. “The way you talk about yourself is nothing compared to the person I’ve gotten to know better these days.”

Your throat tightens, the words hitting so hard your chest physically aches.

“You take care of everybody before they even ask,” her eyes stay locked on yours. “You’re patient. Like… ridiculously. Even when your family’s driving you insane, you still show up for them because you love them.”

Your heartbeat grows louder and louder.

The ocean breeze moves through her pink hair softly, and for the first time since you met her, Vi looks jittery.

“And the kids?” she laughs weakly under her breath. “God, Y/N. Luca looks at you like you hung the moon, and Ana admires you so freaking much.”

Your eyes burn immediately.

“Your parents adore you. Your mom lights up every time you walk into a room. Your dad literally carries embarrassing childhood photos of you around on his phone like you’re his greatest accomplishment.

You blink to try and hold the tears back, clearly taken aback with how gentle and soft Vi is being toward you.

“And me?” her voice lowers almost to a whisper now. “I like being around you so much it’s actually become a problem.”

The confession slips out of her and Vi realizes it a second too late. Your breath catches as soon as you notice she didn’t mean to say it out loud, with the way her eyes widen and her shoulders tense up.

But now that it’s out there, she can’t stop.

“You make everything feel easy,” she admits, eyes softening in a way that makes your stomach flip. “Even stupid stuff. Breakfasts, walking around, sitting around doing nothing… I just— Fuck, I look for you constantly now.”

“Vi…” you whisper, every word landing deep inside you with how sincere she sounds.

“And hearing you talk about yourself like this?” She keeps going, visibly upset now. “It pisses me off cause it’s not fucking true.”

Vi’s breath is uneven now, chest rising and falling faster beneath the ocean breeze. She’s been holding all of this in for days and she can’t stop it from spilling it out.

A tear slips free before you can stop it. Vi notices instantly, her expression softening so fast it nearly undoes you.

“Hey,” she murmurs, voice dropping completely now.

You look down immediately, embarrassed, but Vi gently catches your wrist before you can fully turn away.

“No, no, don’t do that,” the warmth of her hand around yours sends your pulse spiraling. “You don’t get to sit here and act like you’re unlovable when I—”

Vi cuts herself off abruptly. The words hang there between you unfinished, but painfully obvious.

When I what?

Your heartbeat pounds violently against your ribs. Her eyes widen slightly like she can’t believe she almost said that out loud. A faint flush spreads across her cheeks, but she doesn’t let go of your wrist.

The ocean waves crash softly behind her while your entire body feels too warm, too aware, too full of her. Slowly, Vi exhales.

“When I look at you,” she corrects quietly, though her voice still sounds shaken, “all I see is somebody worth loving.”

Nobody’s ever spoken about you this way before. Hell, nobody’s ever even looked at you like this before.

Your eyes burn harder now, emotions crowding painfully inside your chest all at once. And Vi—

God, Vi looks terrified. Not because she regrets saying it, but because she knows that there’s no turning back now. And to be sincere, she doesn’t want to take it back.

The realization settles between you both heavily, mixing with the sound of crashing waves and distant laughter farther down the beach.

“…you really mean all that?” your voice comes out small and fragile in a way that makes Vi’s chest ache instantly.

“I do,” she answers quietly.

Your heartbeat violently against your ribs as Vi takes another small step toward you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from her skin despite the cool evening breeze.

“You have no idea how easy you are to care for,” Vi admits softly, eyes flickering between yours. “Honestly, I think I was screwed the second you offered me a free vacation.”

A shaky laugh escapes you, and Vi’s mouth twitches at the sound. Oh, how she’s missed it all day long.

The air between you shifts.

Her gaze drops briefly to your lips, and your breath catches immediately. Your body instinctively leans toward hers before your brain can stop it.

Vi notices immediately, her own breath hitching. Slowly, her free hand lifts toward your face, making your pulse jump so hard it almost hurts. Her fingertips brush lightly against your cheek, warm and gentle, and the look she gives you nearly steals all the air from your lungs entirely.

Your eyes flutter shut, and Vi leans close enough that you can feel her breath against your lips—

“AUNTIE VI, AUNTIE Y/N!”

Both of you jump apart so fast it’s almost embarrassing.

Ana comes sprinting down the beach at full speed while Luca trails behind her, carrying three seashells and a juice box with extreme concentration.

“We found a crab!” Ana announces proudly.

Vi tips her head back toward the sky with a strangled groan. You clap a hand over your mouth immediately, laughter escaping despite the emotional whiplash currently going on inside your chest.

Ana squints suspiciously between the two of you. “Why are your faces red again?”

The trip comes to an end the following day.

One moment, you’re falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves and Vi’s sleepy voice beside you. The next, everyone’s standing near the airport drop-off with luggage piled around you while the morning traffic rushes by outside.

The goodbye chaos is immediate. Ana’s already clinging to Vi’s waist before anyone’s even finished unloading bags.

“Nooooo,” she whines. “You can’t go home.”

Vi laughs softly, crouching down enough to poke her forehead lightly. “I live in the same neighborhood as you, kiddo.”

“That’s still too far.”

Luca stays quieter beside them, but he’s holding onto Vi’s hand with both of his little hands, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Vi shoots you a tiny smile over Ana’s head. The kind that still makes your stomach flip embarrassingly hard.

“Guess I’m stuck now.”

“You better be,” Ana points at her sternly.

Your dad walks over next, already pulling Vi into a warm hug before she can escape.

“You survived your first family vacation,” he jokes. “That’s basically official induction.”

Vi snorts. “Do I get a trophy?”

“…no, but you do get twenty embarrassing childhood stories about Y/N.”

“Oh, I already got those.”

“Dad,” you groan instantly.

Your mom laughs warmly before stepping toward Vi too. And immediately, her expression softens. It’s the kind of emotional softness that catches Vi completely off guard as she’s pulled into a gentle hug.

“You better come to brunch next weekend,” your mom says firmly. “I’m serious.”

“I promise I’ll do my best.”

“No excuses, sweetie,” your mom warns before her expressions turns softer still. “And… thank you.”

Vi blinks once, clearly puzzled. “For what?”

Your mom glances toward you briefly. “For making my daughter happy.”

The words land like a punch straight to Vi’s chest, her breath catching almost imperceptibly. Your mom says it so simply and sincerely, like it’s so obvious that Vi’s already become so important. For a second, she can’t even find s joke to hide behind.

Vi’s eyes drift toward you automatically, and the look on your face nearly ruins her on the spot. Soft, embarrassed and hopeful, all in one.

“We’re keeping you, by the way,” your mom squeezes Vi’s arm gently before stepping back.

“Mom.”

“I’m just stating the obvious, dear.”

Mia walks over last. There’s an initial awkwardness, and Luca attaches to her side now, looking significantly less pleased about the trip ending.

“…okay,” she admits reluctantly. “You were kinda amazing.”

Vi gasps dramatically. “Wow. Is anyone recording this?”

“Don’t push it.”

But Mia’s smiling when she says it. She glances between you and Vi before adding a quieter:

“Take care of each other, okay?”

The final goodbyes blur together after that. Your mom makes Vi promise to visit next week, Luca quietly asks if she’ll really come to the park with them someday, and suddenly it’s over.

The airport disappears behind you as you and Vi step out into the warm afternoon air alone for the first time in days.

The silence that settles between you inside the cab ride home feels different now. Heavy, and anticipating. By the time you stop outside your apartment building, your heartbeat feels completely out of control again.

Vi stands beside you as she puts the last bag down in your living room. The city noise hums softly through the open windows, but all you can focus on is her and the way she’s looking at you now.

You let out one nervous laugh.

“So…” you start weakly. “Guess the job’s over.”

Vi smiles at that, but there’s shyness underneath it now. She steps close enough that your breath catches immediately.

“Yeah?” she murmurs.

Her eyes flick down to your lips before returning to your eyes, making your pulse jump like crazy.

“Um…” she smiles against the nervous tension between you. “You planning on firing me as your fake girlfriend?”

A laugh escapes your throat before you can stop it, quiet and breathless and completely fond. God, you’re so gone for her.

You shake your head slightly, stepping closer too until there’s barely any space left between you.

“Depends,” you mutter, a grin taking over your lips. “You interested in becoming my real one?”

The look that crosses Vi’s face almost undoes you completely. Then, she kisses you.

For real this time. No audience, no pretending and no excuses. Just Vi’s hands sliding gently to your waist while your fingers curl instinctively into the front of her shirt, both of you smiling helplessly into the kiss almost immediately.

It’s softer than the first one, but somehow it hits ten times harder. Because now you know that every stolen glance, every touch, every blush and every word… it was real all along.

Vi smiles against your lips, forehead resting lightly against yours when you finally pull apart.

“Took you long enough,” she whispers.

If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.

You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.

You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.

Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.

Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.

You remembered it clear as day.

You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.

The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.

They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.

You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.

“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”

“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.

“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.

You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.

“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.

“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”

“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”

“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”

They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.

It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.

Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.

You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.

The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.

Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.

God, the fucking sex.

It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.

You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.

During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.

You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.

When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”

“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”

“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”

Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”

“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”

You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.

Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”

Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”

“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”

“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”

Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.

You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.

You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.

The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”

“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”

“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”

“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.

“Three!”

Another one.

“Four!”

And the last one.

“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”

“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”

She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.

“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”

“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”

“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”

“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”

You grinned. “You mean that?”

“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.

“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.

Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”

“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”

Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.

There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.

Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.

They came into your life when you needed them the most.

“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”

“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”

You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.

“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”

Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”

You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”

Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”

Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.

“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.

“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”

Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.

Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.

Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”

“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”

Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”

You only stood still, gazing up at her.

Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”

“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”

You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”

“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”

“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.

“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”

“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”

“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”

Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.

You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.

The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.

Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.

“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”

“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”

Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”

“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”

Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”

“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”

“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.

She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.

“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”

“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.

“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”

A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”

Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”

“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”

“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”

“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.

Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.

“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.

“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”

Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.

Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.

The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.

But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.

You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.

You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.

Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.

You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”

Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.

“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”

“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”

“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”

“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”

True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”

You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.

It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.

“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”

“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”

“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”

“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”

“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”

“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”

“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”

“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”

They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.

“What can I get you, love?” She asked.

“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.

A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”

You shivered to the voice of a man.

“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.

“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”

“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.

Oh, you felt sick.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.

Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.

“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”

“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”

“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.

You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.

You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.

You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”

The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”

She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.

You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.

It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”

“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”

“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”

“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.

As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”

“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”

Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”

“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.

“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”

“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”

“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.

You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.

“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”

She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”

You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”

“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”

“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”

“Just three lines,” you repeated.

Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.

The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“

“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.

“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.

“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”

“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.

“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.

There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.

You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.

“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.

“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”

With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.

Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”

Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.

She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”

“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”

“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.

“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”

Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”

Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.

Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”

Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”

“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.

E: How is she?

J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.

E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.

J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.

E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.

She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.

Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.

They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.

Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”

“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.

“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”

Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”

“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.

Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.

He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”

His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.

He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.

He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.

“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”

Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.

“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”

“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.

“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”

“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”

“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”

“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”

“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”

“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”

“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”

Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.

The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.

“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”

Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.

People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.

Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.

They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.

The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”

“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”

Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”

Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”

The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.

“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”

“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.

“Els!” You said.

“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”

“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”

“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”

“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”

“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”

“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”

“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”

“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”

“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.

You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”

“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”

You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”

Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.

You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.

Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.

You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.

“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”

“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.

“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”

You panicked. “Whatever I did—”

“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”

“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”

You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”

“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.

“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”

“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.

It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.

The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.

You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.

You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.

Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.

You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”

“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.

“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”

“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”

“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”

They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.

“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”

“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”

“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”

You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.

“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”

Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”

“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”

“It is,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”

“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.

“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”

You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.

“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”

Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”

“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”

You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.

Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.

In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”

“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”

You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”

You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”

Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.

“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.

She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”

“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”

“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”

“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”

You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.

You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.

“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”

“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”

“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.

Everyone knew it.

“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”

Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.

“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”

Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”

Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.

“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”

“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”

You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.

Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.

“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”

“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”

Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”

Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.

Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”

“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.

“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”

Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”

“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”

“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”

“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”

“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”

You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”

“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.

“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”

“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”

“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”

You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.

Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.

“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”

“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”

“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”

Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”

Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”

The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.

You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.

They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.

They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.

Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.

“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”

“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”

“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”

Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”

You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.

You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.

“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”

“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”

Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.

“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.

A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.

Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.

“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”

“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.

The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.

They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.

“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”

“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”

Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”

Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”

Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.

You wanted to cry.

They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.

You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.

Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.

You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.

Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.

Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.

Why the fuck was Joel calling?

You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?

You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.

“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.

Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.

Xo, Ellie.

“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”

There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”

“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.

“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”

Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.

The shirt. The red on the shirt.

Blood.

“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.

“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”

You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.

They needed you blind and gullible.

“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”

“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”

You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.

“Do you know something?” He asked.

“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.

You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.

Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.

You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.

It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”

“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”

Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.

You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”

“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”

“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”

“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”

“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.

You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.

You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.

Abby’s jacket.

You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.

You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.

“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.

For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.

That wasn’t possible.

Content and warnings: 18+ NSFW, MINORS AND MEN DNI, smut, a bit of plot but mostly smut, fem!reader, lesbian!Jill Valentine, RE3remake!Jill Valentine, Jill in uniform, sex pollen (both reader and Jill infected), mutual yearning, coming out (kind of?), feelings realization and confession, friends to lovers, dry humping/thigh riding, nipple play, dirty talk, masturbation, Jill watches reader touch themselves turned mutual masturbation, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), multiple rounds/orgasms, some overstimulation, aftercare, no use of y/n, some reference to other characters in RE universe, some (very little) canon-typical violence, explicit language

WARNING‼️: You must have an ADULT age indicator in your bio to interact with my content. If you are a minor or an ageless blog and you interact with any of my content that has an 18+ MDNI warning (by liking, commenting or reblogging), you will be blocked.

a/n: I saw people writing sex pollen fics with Leon and I loved them so I decided to do one with Jill. Was written with RE3 remake Jill in mind. This is my first fic ever so please be kind!

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“Just be careful, okay?”

You can’t hide the anxiety in your voice as Jill prepares to shuffle under a gap between a faulty lab door and the grimy, bloodstained floor. The room beyond the door (which intel tells you to be a laboratory) is completely dark and silent. Usually a bad sign.

Protocol would suggest you both go in together, covering each other's blind spots and scoping out the room and its exits before fully entering it. But protocol doesn’t account for faulty machinery.

“Don’t worry, I’m a professional,” Jill says sarcastically, brushing past you and beginning to lower down onto her stomach so that she can squeeze through the gap.

The contact of her shoulder against yours makes your heart stutter, and you try not to watch as her arm muscles ripple while lowering herself to the floor, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. Unfortunately, you never could stop yourself from looking, even during training when there were dozens of other people around to catch you doing it. The image of Jill doing push ups till failure in her S.T.A.R.S uniform, sweaty and panting, made you yearn for things that were absolutely indecent.

It had only gotten worse when you were made partners and you began to see her in all different types of positions even more frequently. Not to mention how your feelings were further intensified when you found her to be one of the most loyal, caring and strong-willed people you had ever met. She was one of the only people you trusted with your life. How could anyone not fall in love with her?

But she seemed distant in some way; there was a hardness to her you didn’t quite understand yet. There was never a moment when her walls came fully down.

And of course she was definitely straight. There were rumors that she and Chris have quietly been in a relationship for years. Not even you could deny their chemistry, the deep trust they so obviously shared, despite how hard you tried to ignore it due to the gnawing jealousy it inspired in you. She could never return your feelings, even though it hurt you more than anything to admit.

Jill looked back up at you, the magnetic pull of her eye contact dragging you back to the present. A smile seemed to tug at her mouth slightly as you guiltily attempted to adjust your facial expression so as not to reveal how flustered you were by the mere sight of her arms.

Back to the task at hand.

You try to reason with her again.

“I still think I should go in first, if anything happens to you -”

Her gaze softens almost imperceptibly before she breaks eye contact, cutting you off.

“I’ll be fine, just stay here and cover this entrance while I scope out the lab.”

Without leaving space to argue she speaks into the comms:

“I’m going in.”

Then she shuffles through into the room beyond.

You watch with apprehension as her combat boots disappear into the darkness, turning around to protect the entrance from anyone or anything that could want to get past you.

As each moment of silence passes your anxiety heightens drastically. You can feel a tightness in your chest which pulls more taut with each second, waiting for Jill to sound the all clear. Every slight scuffle or sound makes your ears prick, as you strain to hear the sound of her footsteps to confirm that she is still safe. You fight the urge to call out to her.

And then a moment of complete and utter silence, like the air has been sucked from the room, makes your blood run cold. It lasts only a fraction of a second, before the smashing of glass and a cacophony of piercing shrieks jolts you into action.

The sound was unmistakable; zombies, and more than one. You hear Jill’s gun shots already pinging as you scrabble to the floor, nails desperately scratching at sticky tiles as you frantically drag yourself under the door and into the laboratory.

Your gun is drawn before you even stand up, and in the chaos of it all you can see Jill is already backed into a corner, surrounded by three of the creatures.

Your eyes meet from across the room and without a word you understand what she wants you to do. You unhook a grenade from your belt, and hurl it towards her before turning on a lone zombie that has zoned in on you. Jill catches the grenade and with lightning speed removes the safety before throwing it at the zombies feet, the explosion quickly removing the three around her from the equation.

As she strains to see past the leftover flames, you take out the zombie in front of you before a crash sounds beside you and you are sent flying against a glass lab window, the impact whipping the air from your lungs.

Your ears are ringing and you can feel the sting of a deep gash on your right arm and the sharp twinge of glass twisting in the wound. The pain makes it impossible for you to raise your gun. You dimly register shattered glass on the floor around you as well as something wet trickling down your skin before your sight blurs. Jill yells out your name, but your body is too shocked to respond. The zombie lunges towards you and you screw your eyes shut, readying yourself for the final blow. You can see Jill’s silhouette sprinting towards you just before you close your eyes. Gun shots ring out in quick succession and you hear a wet thud as a body falls to the floor.

There is deafening silence and then the feeling of Jill’s hands on your face, your arms. Her face and voice begins to sharpen into focus. You are surprised at the level of fear on her face. It almost looks as if she might cry.

“Fuck,” you croak, coughing profusely before sitting yourself up straighter against the wall. You can see the zombie lying dead on the floor in front of you, blood pooling around its head. Thank god for Jill and her impeccable aim.

“That thing came out of nowhere.”

“Tell me where it hurts,” she says. There’s a strain to her voice that you haven’t heard before. Her fingers are trembling as she holsters her gun.

“I’m fine.”

The air is beginning to return to your lungs. You go to stand up but wince when you lean on your right arm.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine, really, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Jill scoffs.

“You’re the only thing I worry about,” she says quietly, almost as if speaking to herself. You feel a jab in your chest of something you can’t quite name.

And then she looks you in the eyes and you feel a keen, buzzing warmth in your core. You swallow thickly, trying to push the feeling away, but your pulse refuses to slow. Now is not the time. You brandish the wound on your arm sheepishly to distract yourself.

“It’s nothing, really,” you say weakly.

Your breath hitches as Jill rips a piece of fabric from her shirt and binds the wound, her fingers soft and gentle on your skin. You feel your cheeks flush at the contact and the burning at your core intensifies. You fight the urge to whimper. What is happening? You were used to feeling flustered around Jill but this was on a whole other level. She had barely even touched you and you could already feel a wetness growing between your legs.

Then something looms into focus in the air around you. Spores. You peer upwards at the shattered lab window you were thrown against. Inside is a pulsing flower resembling an orchid, its petals a lurid red, every pulse sending out a puff of spores into the air around you. An umbrella logo stands out starkly on the glass test tubes next to it.

“Shit.”

Jill follows your gaze.

“Shit,” she echoes.

You feel a panic swelling inside you. You begin to scuffle to your feet, ignoring the ache in your ribs and lungs.

“We have to leave, now. Who knows how much of that stuff we’ve already breathed in.”

Jill shoots into action, already on the comms to headquarters as you both hurry towards the faulty door.

“We have a problem,” she says, nervously eyeing your face as if afraid you might drop dead at any moment. “We’ve been exposed to spores from an unknown plant species. The target samples were nowhere to be found. It seems our intel was incorrect.”

She drops to the floor and begins to crawl back under the lab door as she listens to the response through her earpiece. You pointedly avert your eyes away from her body as she does so, painfully aware of your growing arousal. You follow quickly behind her.

“They think it’s likely nothing, but we have to quarantine, just to be safe. They have a safe house nearby available for us,” she says to you.

You notice her cheeks are tinged slightly pink, and she avoids making eye contact with you. Is she feeling the same as you are? You quickly quash that thought. You’re both just disoriented. The sooner you get to the safe house and they can figure out if you’re both okay the better.

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ ｡☆ﾟ

By the time you’ve reached the safe house and your samples have been taken you can feel that your underwear is soaked through with arousal and that the buzzing in your core is getting worse.

The journey there did nothing to quell the searing heat inside you, and every near contact with Jill had you biting back moans.

She seemed coldly distant from you the whole way there, barely looking you in the eye. It was probably for the best, seeing as you were desperately trying to hide the very specific type of need she was inciting in you.

The standard testing you received when you arrived confirmed you both had a rising fever. For now you were blaming the sudden magnifying of your feelings purely on that, on delirium.

Now, you both sit at opposite ends of a bedroom at the safe house. Sweat beads your forehead and your hands are clammy. Jill is staring intently at her boots, the same moistness clinging to her skin.

Neither of you have spoken a word since arriving. You’re almost afraid of what might slip out if you open your mouth.

Every time you look at her you feel the ache throbbing between your thighs intensify. In the silence, your mind keeps wandering to thoughts of her tongue in your mouth, her hands all over your body, her fingers dripping with your arousal, images that make you burn with both desire and shame. You would hate to think how she would react if she knew how you were picturing her right now.

You shift in your seat and feel a jolt of both agony and pleasure through your body as you catch a glimpse of her hands, the veins standing out on her knuckles, which are a deep pink from the fever.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, wincing slightly.

Her gaze snaps up to you at the sound.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice sounds strained and breathy and she quickly rises up and crosses the room towards you, concern knitting her eyebrows together.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you say thinly, trying to muster a smile, though nothing could be further from the truth.

Her increased proximity to you makes your blood burn with want and your core yearn for friction. You fight the urge to slip your fingers down into your pants right in front of her.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

You feel your smile turn to a grimace. At this a look of desperation flashes across her face before she starts pacing up and down the room.

Her every movement sends a pulse right through you. All your attention has whittled down to the shape of her body, every slight gesture she makes, the soft pink of her lips. Your senses are so on fire you can even feel the slight shift in the air as she moves through it. The fever somehow manages to make her look even more radiant than usual, and you find that you’re having to remind yourself that she is most definitely not attracted to you. Then she whirls to face you.

“What are you feeling right now? Describe it to me.”

You feel a twinge of guilt. Here you were thinking obscene things about her and all she felt was concern for you. You search for something appropriate to respond with.

“Hot,” you say, and then after a moment's pause you rush to clarify “as in feverishly hot, and kind of clammy.”

Before Jill can respond the phone rings. Headquarters. She answers quickly.

“Any news?” She speaks into the receiver.

You see Jill’s eyebrows furrow and she turns away from you while she listens to the voice on the other end. Her hand clenches slightly on the phone handle.

“Okay, let me know if you find anything more.” Her voice is tight. As she puts the phone down you notice her hand is shaking slightly. You try to stay composed as another pang of desire makes you feel like you might explode. Jesus, keep it together. You swallow hard before speaking.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

Jill turns towards you slightly but doesn’t answer. You see her throat bob.

“Jill?”

She closes her eyes as she begins to speak.

“They found that the spores' intended purpose was to act as an…aphrodisiac,” she says that last word carefully, taking a breath before continuing. “It was being used to encourage breeding between whatever they were keeping in that lab. Its effects are purely physical, and will result in a rising fever that can lead to death unless dealt with.”

Oh. So that explains the astronomical levels of arousal you were experiencing right now. You take a deep breath. Your clothes feel hot and heavy on your skin, and you want nothing more than to be bare before her, to be skin on skin.

“How is it…dealt with?” You echo her choice of words.

There’s a long pause.

“We should never have gone in that lab,” Jill says, her hand gripping the table. Her voice is hoarse.

“Jill.”

“The fever can be reduced by a burst of oxytocin and dopamine which will lower the subject’s temperature down to normal. And the only way to trigger that release is…”

The pieces slot together in your head. Shit.

“Orgasm,” you finish for her.

Jill pinches her nose and turns towards you.

“I don’t know what to do,” she says. “We won’t survive another day if we don’t do something about this quickly.”

You wrack your mind for a solution, something to help her with her pain, your own struggles momentarily ignored.

“Can’t Chris get here that quickly?”

Jill freezes. She looks completely dumbfounded.

“…Chris? What does Chris have to do with this?”

You try to swallow your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I-I just assumed that you guys…”

You trail off, burying your face in your palms.

There’s silence. Then Jill laughs. You look at her, confused. What’s so funny? Jill looks down at her hands, almost appearing bashful.

“I’m sorry for laughing - it’s just that… I don’t exactly, um, like men.”

You feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh…”

“There’s nothing between me and Chris, and there never will be. I thought it was kind of obvious.”

You don’t know how to react. The thought that there was even the slightest possibility Jill could actually want you made your legs involuntarily clench together. You don’t know what to say. You search Jill’s face for any detail to hint at what she’s feeling. She’s staring at the floor intensely, waiting for you to say something.

You can’t tell her how you feel.

If she felt the same way, there would have been hints. And telling her how you feel is only going to ruin your friendship. You have to force the next words out of your mouth.

“Can it be dealt with…alone?”

You think that Jill’s shoulders drop almost imperceptibly, but you convince yourself that you must have been imagining it.

“I-I don’t know.”

“It’s worth a try then,” you say carefully, getting up slowly and heading in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll take a shower, and that way we can both have some…privacy.”

Jill nods tightly and turns her back to you.

You close the door, turn the shower on and let out a long sigh. Being further away from her makes your chest ache, and you feel your core clench around nothing.

You yearn for some friction. You try to sit comfortably on the tiled bathroom floor but every position hurts. Your hair sticks to the clammy dampness on your face, and you become acutely aware of how alone you are, how far away she is. The feeling burns so much it is painful.

You try to push her from your thoughts as your hands slip below the waistband of your underwear, your fingers circling your clit, desperately chasing a balm to the aching want tearing you apart from the inside.

But no matter how hard you try, nothing soothes the painful fire searing inside of you. All you can think about is how much you wish it was her fingers touching you.

After a while you give up. It takes all of your resolve not to call out to Jill. You can’t possibly ask her to do this. Nothing would ever be the same. You would probably have to find different work partners. You would hardly ever see each other. She probably wouldn’t even want to see you.

You place your hand under the cold water of the shower for a while, feeling the pain and heat slowly reach a crescendo. If you don’t do anything soon, you’re both going to die. Jill is going to die. You can feel your resolve slowly cracking.

Fuck this.

You get up and open the bathroom door. Jill is lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Then she looks at you. You can see that her resolve is also wearing thin.

“It hurts so bad,” you say weakly, your throat scratchy and dry. You need her to touch you, and she can see it in your face. She stands up achingly slow. You can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” she mutters. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

The shock of that statement momentarily distracts you from the pain. You swallow thickly.

“What?”

You must be misreading what she said. She pauses for a second, blinks, and then seems to decide on something. She speaks her next words more boldly.

“I didn’t want us to happen like this.” She looks you in the eyes. You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Us?”

“Us,” she repeats, and then, “I’ve wanted you since we became partners. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You feel the weight of her words crashing down on you. She wanted you, she still wants you. She’s feeling exactly the same as you are right now. She wants this just as much as you do. You can’t breathe. You want to tell her everything, how much she means to you and how you think about her constantly, how everything feels empty when she’s gone. But the urgent ache inside makes you settle for something shorter.

“I want you too.”

She blinks at this, and then within seconds she’s crossed the room to stand in front of you. Her sudden proximity steals the breath from your lungs.

“How long?” You know instantly what she means.

“Since we first met.”

She nods slowly, taking this in. You can see her hands stretching out towards you, but she still seems unsure of what you want, what she’s allowed to do, and she draws them back. Even though you know the pain she must be feeling right now by restraining herself, she still thinks only of you, of what you feel. The aching desire inside you comes back with full force. Your skin feels like it should be smoking from the heat.

“Are you sure you want this?” She asks. She’s so close to you now that you can feel her breath on your mouth, her eyelashes flutter against your cheek. Her hands are ghosting your body in the air around you. Her breath keeps hitching in her throat every time she comes close to brushing your skin.

You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life, never trusted anyone more in your life.

“Yes, please-please touch me, I need you to touch me,” you whisper.

In her eyes you can see her walls come crashing down and all her restraint go out the window. And then she’s pinning you against the wall and her hands are on you, on your arms, your waist, your thighs.

She’s touching your body with a kind of reverence, running her fingers over every dip and curve, her breath coming quicker and quicker. You’re clutching at her arms, her shirt, her hips, trying desperately to pull her closer to you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve imagined this,” she whispers. You whimper. You can’t believe she’s felt the same way all along. The thought that she’s been yearning for you, longing to touch you for so long makes a pressure begin to build in your stomach.

The sensation of her fingers on you is like a salve, the only thing that seems to dull the burning of your skin. But the ache between your legs is still there. You can barely speak between breaths.

“Please, I-I need more,” you tell her.

“I’ll do anything you need, just tell me and I’ll do it,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“Kiss me,” you plead.

And then her lips are on yours, warm and sure, her thigh rising to press between your legs. You moan into her mouth at the sudden pressure and then the kiss becomes messier, both of your mouths opening as you feel her tongue pressing against your lips.

The movement of her tongue against yours is hungry but also gentle, and you find yourself unable to believe this is actually happening. You’ve pictured this for so long. But nothing your imagination could conjure up is as good as the real thing.

You grind slightly against her thigh, chasing the friction, and feel hear her groan into your mouth. Immediately her hands are on your hips, guiding you against her leg, and you feel the pressure in your core beginning to coil tighter at the friction.

“Im gonna take care of you, gonna make it go away,” she says, beginning to plant kisses down your throat. You gasp as she sucks at a place below your jaw, marking you.

The pressure continues to build and you can feel that you are coming close to a release, causing you to grind down harder on her leg to chase it. Your hands are clutching at her shoulders as you pant into her neck.

“I’m so close,” you bite out, and in response she pushes you down on her thigh harder.

“Come for me baby, come on I can take it,” she says desperately, and the sound of her calling you baby tips you over the edge. Your whole body shudders and you collapse into her, chanting her name into her neck, her thumbs circling on your hips as your body trembles all over.

As you come down from your high you can feel the burning heat inside you fade, signaling the end of your fever, but you can still feel an aching and a wetness between your legs that is all you.

You lean your head back against the wall, catching your breath, looking at Jill’s face. Her pupils are blown out and her lips are plump and wet with your saliva. It takes everything in you not to pepper her face with kisses.

“How do you feel?” She asks, eyes scanning your face.

“My fever is gone, but…”

You trail off. You feel almost ashamed at the ache still pulsing inside you. It feels like you haven’t even had an orgasm at all.

“What?” Her eyebrows knit together and she lowers her leg, palms rubbing your arms. You can see a wet patch on her trousers, betraying your feelings. And then she sees it too.

“Oh…” she says. You can’t read her facial expression. You feel incredibly selfish. Jill must still be burning up inside, and all you want is to feel her fingers inside you. You feel her grip tighten on your arms.

“Lie down on the bed,” she says gently. Guilt pierces through you. She’s still staring at the patch on her trousers. Her eyes look almost hungry.

“Jill, what about you-“

“This is what I need.”

Her voice is firm. You don’t argue with that.

You lie back on the bed and she climbs on top of you, her hands all over you again and her mouth crashing into yours with desperation. You can feel her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and she pulls away from you to speak, a string of saliva stretching and breaking between your mouths. She’s panting hard.

“I want to see you…can I take this off?”

You nod, unable to speak.

“I need to hear you say it,” she says.

“Y-yes, take it off.”

She pulls your shirt over your head and begins to unclasp your bra. You notice her hands are shaking. You’ve never seen her like this, never seen a crack in her composure. Right now she looks almost feral. You feel a jab of satisfaction that you have this effect on her. She gasps when she sees you fully.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she whispers. Her fingers begin to brush at the curve of your breasts. Your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. You can only think of one thing.

“I-I want to see you too,” you say sheepishly. She can’t take her eyes off of your body but she nods and pulls her shirt over her head and takes off her bra. Your breath hitches when you see her fully and she smirks slightly.

Then she’s coming down on you, licking a stripe up your stomach before turning her attention to your breasts. Your back arches slightly when you feel her teeth scrape against your nipples, and noticing your reaction she begins to lick and suck at them until they harden from her touch.

Her attentions trigger the pressure to begin to build again in your abdomen. You drag your nails gently down her bare back and you hear her moan at the sensation. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. You can practically feel your cunt dripping.

“Jill,” you gasp. “I’m so fucking wet.”

And then her touch is gone, the cold air almost stinging in comparison. She’s looking at you as if questioning whether to say something, her chest heaving. Like she wants something but is holding back.

Doesn’t she know you’d give her anything she wants?

“Jill? Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head in response. Her fingers are flexing and closing at her sides.

“Jill, tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

She deliberates for a moment and then-

“I want to see you touch yourself.”

You feel like your brain might be malfunctioning. The thought of her watching you while you touch yourself makes your core throb.

“Is that okay?”

You nod your head, slowly bringing your hands down to the hem of your trousers. She follows your every movement, and you can see her breathing get faster as you begin to pull your trousers and underwear down your legs achingly slow.

Oh, you’re gonna give her a fucking show.

Once they’re off she takes off her own trousers and throws them to the side of the room before taking in the sight of you. She groans, and it almost looks like she might come just from looking at you.

“You weren’t kidding,” she says hoarsely. “You are wet.”

She begins to reach out to touch you but you stop her hand.

“Not yet, officer,” you tease, a playful tone to your voice. A smile tugs at her lips. You're beginning to understand what makes her tick.

She plants a kiss on your knee instead and places herself between your legs, laying the side of her head down on the inside of your thigh. You bring your fingers down to your cunt and collect some of your arousal on your fingers before beginning to circle your clit slowly. Jill moans your name at the sight.

You’re not even touching her and she’s already breathless.

You’re so slick that your ministrations begin to make a filthy wet sound as you increase the pace of your fingers. You can feel the pressure inside you building again, and the hungry look in her eyes only makes you come apart more.

Your breath comes in heavy gasps, and you begin to moan her name over and over again, noticing how it makes her clench her legs together slightly each time you do it.

You feel like her voice is coming to you from miles away as she talks you through it. Keep going, baby. You’re so pretty like this. Fuck, I love how you sound when you say my name like that. You see her hand begin to sneak down under the hem of her underwear. Fucking hell. She wasn’t making it easy to keep it together. Her voice cuts through the haze of your pleasure.

“I want to know… what you think about,” her voice comes out ragged.

“Hm?” You can barely form a coherent sentence. You can see her hand beginning to move under her underwear.

“What do you think about…when you touch yourself?”

You hesitate, and feel almost embarrassed as you say it.

“You…I think about you,” you gasp out. She groans in response.

“And what am I doing?” You can hear her coming apart in her voice. You reach out and push her hair away from her face with your free hand.

“I’ll often think about…when you’re training…in your uniform…doing push ups…and the noises you make- fuck!”

You can feel yourself getting close. Jill seems to bite back a laugh.

“I knew you loved that…I-I could feel you watching me…it made me so fucking turned on,” she pants out.

She’s beginning to shake, and you move your fingers faster, trying to chase the pressure building inside you so that you can both come together. Your orgasm washes over you and you hear Jill yelp out your name as she comes with you, your back arching off the bed. You breathe through the aftershocks and then look to see her staring up at you with something tender that you can’t quite name.

“Is your…fever gone?” You ask. She’s planting kisses on the inside of your thighs. She nods. And then she’s taking the fingers you had just been touching yourself with and sucking your arousal off each of them slowly, not breaking eye contact. You whimper. You can feel yourself clench again and she sees it too, smirking slightly. You can feel a heat inside you once more, but not like the fever. This is all Jill. She grabs your thighs and rests them on her shoulders.

“Let me clean you up,” she says. All you can do is nod. You can feel her run her fingers through your folds, and her hot breath as her mouth hovers above your clit. You thread your fingers into her hair and you hear her whimper softly.

And then her mouth is on you, the flat of her tongue licking all the way up your cunt before flicking your clit at the top. She does this a few times, noticing how your hand tightens in her hair when she touches near your sensitive clit. She decides to make that her focus.

“You taste so good,” she hums into you. You can feel pleasure coiling in your stomach once again.

Jesus Christ, how many times was she gonna make you come?

She sucks at your clit and your hips buck upwards, so she does it again and again, her hand traveling up your stomach before coming back down to tease two fingers at your entrance. You wait desperately for her to slide them in but the sensation never comes. You look down at her, and you can see that she’s watching your face, enjoying how desperate you are for her to be inside you.

“Don’t make me beg,” you whimper.

With a moan she slides them in and you can feel her fingers stretching you, a pleasurable burn, until she’s knuckle deep inside you. She wastes no time, curling her fingers inside of you over and over again, hitting that spongy spot inside you while still sucking and licking at your clit.

Your moans are quickly becoming shouts of pleasure, and you can feel yourself beginning to tremor, your thighs instinctively trying to squeeze shut as Jill holds them open. She can feel you begin to clench around her fingers so she picks up the pace, hitting your g-spot over and over again. You can hear the squelch of her fingers moving inside you. Your hand is pushing her head further down into your cunt.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” you whine, before the tension in your core snaps and shudders rip through you. She keeps her mouth on you as you weather the waves of your orgasm, licking up your release, your whole body shaking and tears leaking from your eyes from the overstimulation.

Once your body stills she climbs over you once again and kisses the tears from your face before wiping back the hair that had stuck to your forehead. You can feel the sweat beginning to cool on your skin and your breathing return to normal. She kisses you gently, her hand on your cheek, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. A giddy headiness overtakes you.

“What do you feel?” Her voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard it.

“All I feel is you.”

She chuckles softly and lies down beside you, stroking your hair. Then the absurdity of the past few hours hits you and you laugh suddenly.

“What?”

You turn to look at her and your chest swells with tenderness. You love how beautifully undone she looks, with her hair all messed up and her lips plump from being kissed, and you are struck by how lucky you are to see her this way.

“That might have been my favorite mission ever.”

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But both of you were starting to realize as she guided you back onto her bed that just one was never going to be enough for either of you anymore. 

“Abby,” you mewl, fingers fisting in her t-shirt as her mouth leaves hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. “You’re gonna be late.”

Abby huffs softly but descends lower, sliding your shirt up your torso and latching her lips around one of your nipples. She swirls her tongue around the hardened peak, palming the other with her hand until you’re gasping and squirming beneath her. She pauses her ministrations but her lips never fully leave your skin—they just travel lower, until her mouth hovers right over your clothed cunt. 

“You want me to stop?” she asks, glancing up at you with a look that makes your whole body thrum in anticipation and need. 

“I—fuck,” you start to answer but are immediately cut off when you feel her tongue lightly trace over the skin just below your navel. 

“Hm?” she hums, warm hands spreading your thighs open further so she can settle between them. “What was that, baby?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare stop,” you pant.

Abby immediately sits back up with a wide grin, fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down your thighs in one smooth motion. And fuck, you can feel how wet you are, your thighs already sticky with the evidence of it. But you can’t find a reason to feel embarrassed when Abby practically moans at the sight.  

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” she all but whines, her fingers gliding through your slick center and your hips jolt up when her fingertips brush over your clit. “This all for me?”

She asks like she doesn’t already know the answer.

But you nod anyway, not entirely able to string together a coherent sentence when you feel the tip of her middle finger nudging against your entrance. 

“Words, baby.” She reminds you, those dark blue eyes meeting your slightly hooded ones. 

“Yes,” you writhe, hips grinding back down against her hand. “Only for you, Abs.” 

“Good girl.” 

You release a choked noise when she finally dips her head between your thighs, obscenely spreading you open with her fingers and dragging her tongue from where your arousal pools at your entrance—all the way up to your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck,” you cry out again, your fingers tangling in her already loose braid. 

Abby hums against you, her tongue sliding deep inside you before she’s circling it back up and over your clit again. She repeats these ministrations for a long while, until your thighs start to tremble around her head but somehow it’s still not enough. 

“Abby,” you pant, gripping her wrist and guiding her hand between your legs. “Need your fingers, now.” 

“So bossy,” she chuckles and you can almost feel the way she’s smirking against you. 

But she doesn’t tease you beyond that, instead she glides two of her thick fingers inside you and you practically moan out of sheer relief. Her tongue is back to circling over your swollen clit as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers inside you and the slick sounds that fill her bedroom are downright filthy. 

“God, you hear that?” she rasps, her nose nudging against your clit. “How fuckin’ ready you are for me?” 

You cry out again when her fingers curl up to rub against that sensitive spot inside you, your core muscles tightening with each firm and calculated thrust. Each one threatens to unravel you faster than you’d ever dare admit aloud.

The tension in your middle coils tight, heat continuing to build between you until the sharp, all too familiar chime of a discord call cuts through the charged haze in the room and you both freeze. 

“Shit,” she says under her breath, resting her forehead against your inner thigh. “Impeccable fucking timing, Manny.” 

But Abby makes no move to answer it, letting it ring as buries her face back between your legs and you practically melt into the mattress. That sweet relief doesn’t last long though, because all too soon her cell phone starts to ring, buzzing obnoxiously on the bedside table and she lets out a deep, frustrated groan. 

“Abs?” She looks up at you then, a mixture of desire and irritation written all over her features. “Just go log on, he’s not gonna stop calling until you do.” 

And unfortunately, you both know you’re right. 

It takes a great amount of effort for her to pull herself away from you, and your body involuntary clenches around nothing when she slides her fingers back out. 

“You,” she hums, leaning over you to press a hot, wet kiss to your mouth before she pulls away entirely. “Stay put, I’m not done with you yet.” 

That subtle threat sends heat curling low in your belly and you grin up at her, giving her a small, lazy salute. Abby scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but the subtle quirk of her mouth gives her away as she leans down to kiss you again. 

“Go,” you laugh against her still eager mouth, gently nudging her away when her discord starts blowing up again. 

“Alright, alright.” She relents with a pout, wiping away the remaining slick from her chin with her shirt sleeve as she stalks over to her desk on the opposite side of the room. 

She haphazardly sits down and puts on her headset, adjusting her camera so the bed—and you are no longer in frame. Then she’s live. 

“Hey guys, sorry about that. WiFi’s been acting up all day.” 

You have to stifle a snort of laughter, burying your face in her pillow to muffle it. But the way she clears her throat is a subtle warning in itself. Behave. 

“Alright, let’s get Manny patched in here…” 

You reach for your phone that was left discarded beside her own on the nightstand, pulling up her stream on the app and turning the volume all the way down. 

But her chat already knows something is up. 

downwiththethickness69: yo why does she look so dishelved?? 

gibby420: she’s acting sus 🧐🧐🧐

lurker4life: the vibes are definitely off 

look4thelight (mod): for once I have to agree with chat 

Abby just rolls her eyes. “You guys are the ones being weird.” 

She pulls up the game, trying her best not to think about the fact that you’re laying on her bed—mere feet away—half naked and waiting for her. 

“Alright, Manny, you ready?”

Whatever Manny says next is lost on you, but Abby’s shoulders stiffen like he struck a nerve. 

“What? I’m fine.”

She queues up the next match, fingers drumming impatiently against the surface of her desk. 

“I don’t have any kind of look, you’re reaching,” she mutters. 

You bite your lip, holding your phone closer to your face because she absolutely does. It’s a look you’ve seen more and more over the last few months, she’s softer around the edges and it makes your heart thud erratically in your chest. 

“Alright, alright. Just shut up and watch my six,” she huffs, muttering a small pendejo under her breath. 

Everything seems to settle after that, the room falling into an easy silence that’s only broken by the sharp clicks of her mouse and the steady tapping of keys. But Abby doesn’t fully relax, not like she usually does on stream—because she’s far too aware of you. 

You can tell in the way her attention flickers, how she seems to track every small movement you make on the bed behind her. Every shift of the blankets, every subtle adjustment of your legs pulls just enough of her focus away that on more than one occasion she misses a shot. And each time, you have to bite back a laugh. 

Her chat, of course, doesn’t miss a thing.

simp4abby: she’s awfully distracted today 

darkblade28: I swear I keep hearing shit in the background 🧐🧐

Abby tries to remain outwardly calm, ignoring it as she rolls her shoulders and tries to lock back in.

But then…

Your phone rings—loudly. 

Ellie’s contact photo flashes across your screen and you curse softly, nearly dropping the phone on your face in your rush to shut the ringer off. 

But the damage is already done. 

abbysleftbicep: SOMEONE ELSE IS THERE

clihrider: THERES NO FUCKING WAY 

ruthlessxghost: ITS HER ISNT IT??? FINALGRL IS IN SEATTLE???

Abby groans, dragging a hand down her face and shaking her head. “Guys, stop, alright? No one’s here.” 

look4thelight (mod): that was sooo not convincing abby

Your phone starts to ring again almost immediately, but this time you manage to silence it before it causes any more problems. 

Still, you know Ellie and she isn’t going to stop hounding you until you finally pick up. 

So you carefully slip off the bed, making sure you’re still out of frame and quietly sneak out of the room.  

“Ellie,” you hiss into the receiver once you’re a safe distance from Abby’s room, lowering your voice as you glance down the hallway. “Now is really not a good time.” 

From the living room, Bear lets out a loud, dramatic yawn and stretches, hopping down from the sofa and padding over to you. He gently bumps his snout against your knee, whining softly. 

“Hey, mister man,” you coo softly, scratching behind his ear. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Mister man?” Ellie echoes with a snort. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” 

“Bear,” you say automatically, smiling widely when he nuzzles his face further into your hand. 

“Bear? Who the hell—”

Then it clicks. 

“You’re at Abby’s, I fucking knew it!”

“No I’m not,” you respond too quickly. 

“Yes, you fucking are. DINA!” Ellie shouts and you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. “You owe me $20 bucks!” 

“You guys were betting on me?” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Not just you,” Ellie scoffs. “Both of you. But don’t act so surprised, both your chats have been calling this shit out for months.” 

“And what exactly was the bet?” 

Dina’s voice cuts in then, voice laced with a mixture of amusement and disappointment. “To see which one of you caved and flew out first. But unfortunately for me, I was betting on Abby.” 

“You guys are ridiculous, you know that?” you sigh.

“Says the one pretending she’s not totally in love with—”

“Don’t,” you cut in, glancing down the hall toward Abby’s room. 

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then Ellie is laughing, harder than before. “Oh my god. You are in love with her!”

“I didn’t say that—” 

“You didn’t have to,” Dina chimes in sweetly. 

You lean your head back against the wall with an embarrassed grunt. “Can you guys not do this right now? She’s literally streaming in the other room.” 

“Yeah, we know,” Ellie says, rather smugly. “That’s why I called, we’ve been watching the entire time.”

“Ellie, I swear to god if you—”

“Relax, we aren’t gonna rat you out.” 

“Yet.” Dina finishes. “Watching you both try and fail to act like you aren’t down bad for each other is the most entertaining part of this entire thing.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now,” you huff, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“MAKE SURE TO SHUT THE CAMERAS OFF BEFORE YOU START SUCKING FACE!” Ellie shouts and you immediately end the call. 

“What am I going to do with them, Bear?” you murmur, giving his ears one final scratch before the sound of his automatic feeder has him bolting out of the room and toward the kitchen. 

You release a small laugh, standing there for just a moment longer before you make your way back down the hall, your phone still warm against your palm. 

Abby is mid-match when you slip back into the room. 

She doesn’t look back at you, but the way her hand tightens on the mouse tells you she’s all too aware of your presence again.

“Manny, if you don’t cover me—” Abby cuts herself off, missing two more shots when you settle back onto the bed. 

You press your lips together, but it’s useless because a soft laugh escapes anyway. 

Abby’s shoulders tense. “Fuck, I swear I had that.” 

You decide to take pity on her then, already knowing that her chat and Manny must be roasting the hell out of her for her unusually poor performance tonight. But part of you can’t help but feel a subtle twinge of pride, knowing that she’s off her game entirely because of you. 

So for the next half an hour you try to stay as still as possible, but every quick-witted comeback she spews into the mic has that familiar heat sparking between your thighs and the harder you try to ignore it—the worse it becomes. So you stretch yourself out on the bed, desperate to release some of the tension in your limbs. Her t-shirt that you’re wearing riding up your bare thighs and you release a soft, breathy sigh of frustration. 

And that’s what finally breaks her. 

“Manny, one sec,” she mutters, before pulling her headset off. “There’s something I gotta take care of.”

Abby spins in her chair then, her dark eyes focusing on where you’re lounging across her bed. 

The chat explodes in an instant, messages flooding in rapid succession across her screen before she ends the stream with one firm click. 

She says nothing as she pushes her chair back, rising to her feet. 

“Abby,” you murmur, scooting back until your shoulders meet the headboard—your tone low and teasing. “They’re absolutely going to clip that, you know.”

“Don’t care,” she rasps, crossing over to you in three long strides. 

You release a small squeal when she wraps her fingers around your ankle, dragging you back down the mattress. Her warm hands slide up your calves to spread your legs apart, one of her knees pressing down into the edge of the mattress between them. 

“What about your stream?” you ask, slightly breathless as she leans over you, her nose nudging yours. 

“Told you that I wasn’t done with you yet, baby.” 

Not that it ever does, not when it’s just the two of you.

Abby moves with that same unerring precision she always carries, each step deliberate, economical, hesitation is something she shed a long time ago. You tell yourself you’re keeping close out of habit, out of caution—but the truth feels thinner the longer you sit with it. There’s something else beneath it, something far less practical, something you haven’t quite found the courage to name.

She slows near the end of the corridor, just enough that you nearly step into her before catching yourself. It earns you a glance over her shoulder—brief and assessing, familiar in a way that makes your chest tighten for reasons that have nothing to do with patrol protocol.

You expect a correction, something clipped and practical, but she just looks at you for a second longer than necessary before turning back to the door in front of her. It’s a small thing. Almost inconsequential.

“Eyes up,” she hums, quiet but firm, not even looking at you as she says it.

“I’m looking,” you defend, a little too quick, adjusting your grip on your weapon clumsily.

She doesn’t argue, just moves deeper into the room, checking angles out of habit. It’s small; bare walls, an overturned desk, and a worn couch slumped against one side. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes. This seems like the kind of place where you can take a well deserved break.

But your not exactly paying attention, your gaze zeroing in on her instead of assessing the room. On the shape of her shoulders under her shirt, the way the fabric clings slightly with sweat from the patrol, darkened at the edges. Her forearms flex as she lowers her weapon, skin faintly sheened, catching the low light in a way that makes it difficult to look anywhere else for too long. There’s something grounding about it, something solid, and your thoughts latch onto it before you can redirect them.

You drag your gaze away reluctantly, but it doesn’t last.

Abby glances back, catching you mid-second-look.

“Something on my face?” she asks, dry, one brow lifting just slightly.

Heat rises almost instantly, and you look off to the side like the wall has suddenly become fascinating. “Uh- no.”

“Then quit staring holes through me,” she mutters, turning back toward the room, though you catch the faintest hint of amusement in her tone.

You press your lips together, trying to ignore the way your chest feels tighter than it should. “I wasn’t staring.”

Abby huffs under her breath, soft and unconvinced, and for a second you think she’ll leave it there.

You almost wish she would.

“You’re the one who literally just stood there,” you say instead, quieter now, because apparently you’ve decided not to help yourself tonight.

That gets her attention again.

She turns fully this time, and there’s something about the way she looks at you—more focused, less distracted by the environment. Her eyes narrow, steady and assessing, like she’s trying to decide something.

“I cleared the room,” she says, but there’s less emphasis on the words than there should be.

“Yeah,” you scoff, “I noticed.”

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It stretches until it becomes something else entirely. You’re aware of everything at once—the quiet, the closeness, the way she hasn’t looked away yet.

Your thoughts shift again, less scattered now, more deliberate, and that’s almost worse. You notice the way her hands have relaxed at her sides, the tension bleeding out of them slowly. You notice how close she already is without either of you stepping forward yet. You notice the way your own breathing has changed.

You shouldn’t be thinking about her like this here. Or anywhere for that matter.

That thought flickers briefly, very easy to dismiss.

“You gonna keep pretending you’re not distracted,” Abby says, her voice more grounded, she’s already stepped out of patrol mode whether she meant to or not, “or do you want to admit it?”

“I wasn’t even lookin’ in your direction missy,” you try to defend as casually as possible.

That gets her to face you fully.

Now there’s no mission in her eyes. Just that steady, assessing look she always gets when she’s trying to figure you out—except she already knows you. That’s the problem. That’s always the problem.

“Like hell you weren’t, and this isn’t the first time either,” she says.

You scoff, “I don’t even know what you’re trying to imply.”

“Mhm. You always act like nothing’s happening when you’re literally—” she pauses, gestures vaguely between you both, like she refuses to say it out loud.

Your face warms instantly. “Okay, in my defense, you brought me into an abandoned room and started acting all weird.”

“I’m not the one acting weird.”

“You are definitely acting weird.” yep gaslight her.

Abby exhales through her nose. “Well, you’re distracting.”

That shuts you up for longer than you normally choose to be. Cause that definitely did not sound like an accusation.

It sounded more like a confession she didn’t mean to say. But you can't let yourself read into it too much.

You push off the desk, taking a careful step closer. “I’m distracting you?”

“Yes.”

“From what exactly? The extremely important dust inspection?”

Her eyes narrow slightly, but there’s something fond underneath it now. “From my job.”

There’s a pause—long enough for her roll her eyes when you don’t say anything.

You try to salvage it, because that’s what you do when things get too real. “I feel like your job is mostly kicking doors and looking as intimidating as possible– no offense.”

That finally pulls a real reaction out of her. Not a smile exactly, but something dangerously close.

“So you think I’m intimidating?” she drawls, completely ignoring the first half of your statement.

You immediately regret opening your mouth. “That’s not— I mean, yeah. Obviously. You’re, like… very tall. And strong. And—”

“Stop talking.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

She huffs out a quiet laugh, chin dropping to her chest briefly before her eyes find yours again. “You’re not subtle y'know,”

You let out a breath, something caught between a sigh and a laugh, your fingers brushing absently against the edge of the desk behind you. “Neither are you.”

It’s almost as if she didn’t expect you to say that. There’s a small shift in her expression, the corner of her mouth pulling just slightly.

“Not trying to be,” she admits.

She must have know the effect that would have on you, because your heart nearly stops beating in your chest when it registers.

You don’t think about moving closer, not consciously. It just… happens. One step, then another, until the space between you feels intentional instead of incidental. Abby doesn’t retreat. If anything, she adjusts slightly, her stance grounding as you close in, like she’s meeting you there without making a point of it.

Your pulse feels louder now, and you’re acutely aware of how easy it would be to stop this—step back, say something, break the tension before it becomes something else entirely.

But you don't want to.

Abb pulls you in when you get close enough, fingers catching the front of your jacket. The contact is steady, firm without being forceful, and you feel your stomach flip.

“You’re trouble,” she breathes, her voice low, completely in your spce now.

There’s something about the way she says it—flat, honest—that makes your breath catch slightly.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here,” you reply, but there’s no real argument behind it.

“Didn’t hear you complain,” she retorts, her large hands sliding under your jacket like she’s testing the distance between you.

You open your mouth, but whatever you were going to say dissolves the second her gaze flickers—not to your eyes this time, but lower, brief and unguarded.

The small action is enough to extinguish your resolve.

You don’t step back.

She doesn’t give you the chance to overthink it.

Abby closes the distance in one smooth movement, her hand sliding from your jacket to your jaw, steadying you as she leans in. The kiss isn’t rushed, but it isn’t hesitant either—it feels decided, like she crossed that line in her head long before now and is only just acting on it.

For a second, your body lags behind your mind, caught in the suddenness of it.

Then you respond.

Your hand grips her collar instinctively, the other pressing against her shoulder, grounding yourself in her solid presence. You feel her groan, the sound vibrating through her chest and you let out a whimper in response.

She doesn’t overwhelm you. Even now, there’s control in the way she moves, in the way she holds you, like she’s guiding instead of taking.

You’re dimly aware of moving, your back meeting the wall behind you before you fully register it. Abby follows without breaking the contact, her hand settling at your waist now, firm and warm through the fabric. The pressure of it sends a sharp awareness through you, your thoughts scattering again.

This is real.

She’s right here.

When she pulls back, it’s only slightly, just enough to look at you. Her hands don't leave you, her thumb brushing once against your side like she’s checking you’re okay with this.

“You still with me?” she rasps, her voice low, stripped down to something more honest.

You nod, your breath uneven. “Mmhh, yeah.”

That’s all she needs.

Her hand finds yours, her grip steady as she guides you away from the wall. You follow without thinking, your balance stuttering as she leads you toward the couch. It creaks under her weight when she sits, and before you can fully process it, she’s pulling you down with her.

You end up straddling her lap, hands still half-curled in her shirt, your breathing ragged, catching every time her chest brushes your painfully hardened nipples through your shirt.

Every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire.

Your thoughts spin—this is reckless, so badly timed—but they feel distant, insubstantial compared to the way she’s looking at you now.

“Relax,” she coos softly.

You let out a small, uneven breath, your fingers tightening slightly against her. “You’re not exactly helping.”

That earns you the faintest huff of amusement, warm against your skin, and then she leans in again, close enough to whisper in your ear.

“Can I take this off?” she pleads, fingers already hooking into the hem of your sweater like she’s asking out of habit more than hesitation.

You barely process the words before you’re moving, shrugging out of your jacket and tugging the fabric up and over your head in one impatient motion, like the extra layer suddenly feels unbearable. The cool air hits your skin sharply, but it doesn’t last—Abby’s hands are already back on you, warm and steady, settling at your waist like she needs to ground herself again.

"fuck" she groans, head falling back against the couch as she grips your hips bruisingly tight to keep you there, watching reverently as you reach behind you to unhook your bra and let your sensitive tits spill out.

Her hands immediately reach up to roll your nipples between her fingers and you hiss, bolts of pleasure shooting through you, she kisses over the top of your breasts, licking and sucking the soft skin all the way up to your throat.

Your back arches involuntarily, embarrassed at how soaked you probably already are.

Your fingers tighten in her shirt without thinking, pulling slightly, and the reaction is immediate. Abby shifts beneath you, her hand sliding up your side firmly.

She doesn’t give you much warning.

One second her breath is still uneven against your skin, the next her hand shifts—firm at your jaw, guiding your face down toward hers—and then her mouth is on yours again.

This time it’s different.

There’s nothing tentative left in it. The kiss is hungry, all teeth and tongue, like whatever restraint she had is wearing thin by the second. You feel it in the way she pulls you closer, her fingers sinking into your hair.

Your moan against her, the rhythm of it breaking apart as you try to keep up. It’s messy in a way that feels real; your lips barely parting before she follows, not rushing but not slowing either.

There’s a moment where the kiss lingers, not moving, just held there—warm, breathless, both of you suspended in it—before she shifts again, tilting her head, deepening it without hesitation.

The change sends a rush through you, your thoughts scattering completely as your breathing stutters against hers. She’s not planning to stop unless you make her.

You barely manage to.

Your hand moves from her shoulders to her jaw, not pushing hard, just enough to pull back an inch—your foreheads almost brushing,the both of you now panting.

“Wait—” you murmur, dizzy with want.

Abby doesn’t move far, her grip still firm at your waist, her eyes flicking over your face like she’s trying to discern if there’s something wrong.

“What is it?” she asks, low, voice rougher now.

Your gaze drifts downwards without thinking, the fabric warm under your hands, suddenly too much—too in the way. still stubbornly in place despite everything else that’s come undone.

It feels almost absurd in comparison.

“You’re still wearing this,” you murmur, fingers tugging at the collar.

There’s the faintest pause—her eyes drop briefly to where your hand’s caught in the fabric, then back up to your face.

“That bothering you?” she asks playfully.

You huff out a breath, your thumb catching the edge of it. “A little.”

Abby’s mouth twitches, just barely.

“Then take it off.”

You waist no time. Your hands bunch in her shirt and tug it up over her head in one sharp motion, fabric sliding fast between your fingers as Abby helps without breaking rhythm. Her arms flex as she moves, all hard lines and controlled strength.

You’re kissing her again before you can stop yourself, breath uneven. Abby meets it instantly, her hands dropping, fingers already working at the button of your jeans.

The button slips open under her fingers, her hand pushing past it, slipping beneath the waistband to trace her fingers along the lines of your underwear.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” Abby flips you on the couch so that you're laid down, the cushions dipping under you as she follows immediately, her weight settling over yours.

She dips down, pressing a brief kiss to your sternum before pulling back, already tugging your jeans off with quick, practiced hands.

Pushing your panties aside, Abby gives your pussy a shallow lick, making you yelp at the sudden contact.

“Abby...” you let out a high pitched whine, bucking your hips up into her face.

abby's smirk is clearly visible in her eyes as she sucks your clit into her mouth, picking your thighs up to place around her neck. She was smothering herself in your dripping pussy, the noises she pulls out of you so obscene it almost surprises you, catching in your throat before you can stop them.

“oh, fuck… Abby, hmph need more, please….” you beg, back arched and eyes almost rolled back into your head.

"yeah, baby? gonna slut you out right here, fuck," abby moaned, worked up herself from the way your hands are tangled in her messy blonde hair.

She pushes her fingers in slowly, keeping a steady pace as they work inside you. Two was just enough to provide a challenging stretch.

You couldn't help but squirm under her as her digits moved inside your sopping cunt, drawing out the filthiest noises.

Your legs had already began to quiver at the combination— fingers fucking into you and tongue lapping at your slit. You gotta give it to her, the girl is good with her hands.

You were seconds away from cumming, and it didn’t help that Abby was so loud—panting, groaning into your pussy, every sound dragging you closer on its own, made worse by the way it all pressed through her into you.

“Ngh- fuck, don’t stop…” you whine out with a breathless moan.

"that's it, baby. good girl, you gonna cum f’me?”

your moans grew whinier as you neared your climax, cum gushes from your pussy, but Abby doesn’t let up, working you through it until you’re pawing at her shoulders and jerking your hips away from her face.

She pulls back, looking up at you with an expression on her face that’s unguarded in a way she doesn’t usually allow, almost too open to define properly. She crawls up your body without much warning, peppering small kisses in her ascent.

“Think we can get back now?” you ask, still a little unsteady, trying to catch your breath.

Abby tilts her head playfully, watching you. “That eager to get away from me huh?”

You don’t even hesitate. “Eager to get you somewhere that isn’t crawling with infected so I can return the favor.”

A quiet, almost choked sound slips out of her before she catches herself, eyes widening just a fraction.

A faint flush rises across her cheeks before she schools it back into place, jaw tightening as she clears her throat. voice coming out a little rougher than intended when she speaks again.

“If we take a shortcut, I can get us there in half the time.”

You raise an amused brow, “there was a shortcut?”

A beat passes before she answers. “…maybe.”

You narrow your eyes a little, catching on. “You’re telling me you’ve been dragging me through half of Seattle for fun?” You try to sound stern, but you can’t even be mad.

“Maybe I wanted to spend more time with you,” she says, unbothered, then adds, “you seemed pretty into it.”