» yellowjackets x gn!reader.
when one of your teammates finds out that you’re packing, it leads to a series of interesting events → based on this request.
— warnings: college au. nsfw content. mdni. strap-on usage. the strap being referred to as dick/cock. semi-public sex. hand- & blowjobs. implied voyeurism/exhibitionism. porn with no plot whatsoever.
and i raise you: before it ever gets to any actual locker room sex, some of the yellowjackets each try to make their own move on you….college au, where you’ve only just escaped your conservative hometown, figuring you could finally explore & experiment with packing without it drawing quite so much attention, except now your entire fucking soccer team is suddenly very interested in you and, more importantly, that particular appendage.
jackie is the first to try her luck, breezily approaching you in the locker room after practice to offer you a ride home. only she doesn’t actually drive you home, which becomes apparent pretty fucking quickly when she starts taking turn after turn onto increasingly deserted roads. before long, you’re somewhere in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, the last few houses & signs of life long gone behind you, and jackie’s car finally rolls to a stop at the side of an all but empty road.
jackie who quickly assures you that you’re not in any trouble, clearly seeing the bewildered look on your face, but who insists that, as captain, she has a responsibility to make sure all of her players are alright and know what they’re doing. your first thought, honest to god, is that she’s about to kick you off the team, but then jackie’s hand suddenly, and against all fucking odds, comes to rest on your thigh. it’s only then that you realize she’s shaking, too, while straight ahead through the windshield, her lips parted and panting.
“is this…okay?” she murmurs, watching you from the corner of her eye as her hand starts traveling further up, nails pointedly dragging across the bare skin of your thigh. it dawns on you, then, as you lean back in the seat of jackie taylor’s car, what she’s after. her fingers leave goosebumps in their wake, further up, towards the hemline of your shorts and then some (confirming your suspicions), until the palm of her hand looms over the bulge that you always thought was rather subtle, but which now, even to your own eyes, stands out like a sore thumb. “can i..?” jackie asks again, not yet applying any actual pressure to the strap, keeping her touch featherlight.
the thing is, you know you should say no. more than that, you should get out of this car right about now, because there is no way this isn’t a trap, no way jackie isn’t doing this to humiliate you. and yet, instead of even attempting to reach for the handle, you find yourself nodding breathlessly. jackie lets out a shaky sigh that you assume is relief at not having made a complete fool of herself now that you’ve given her permission to touch, and averts her gaze to your lap to follow the movement of her hand.
at first, she’s only cupping the bulge shyly, her manicured nails catching against the fabric strained over your dick, and if it was real, you imagine it would be throbbing in jackie’s hand, aching to be freed from the restrictive shorts. she gives you an experimental squeeze, then, looking back at your face to see how you groan in response. “oh…” jackie whispers, more to herself, repeating the motion and eliciting a similar reaction. encouraged, she properly strokes, then, her fist closing around whatever she can get hold of through the loose fabric, and dragging along the silicone shaft.
jackie bites her lip when it has you lifting your hips from the leather seat, thrusting forward to chase a touch that you can’t even fucking feel. the visual alone, though, of jackie’s hand wrapped around your dick (real or not), is enough for your clit to pulse under its base, slick pooling in the crotch of your underwear. “you’re-” she whispers, squeezing your length once, “you’re so hard.”
that draws the first actual, strangled moan from your lips. “h-holy shit, jackie, i-“
jackie hushes you as she leans over the center console to help you out of your pants. at least now it makes sense why she drove you into the middle of nowhere for this, with no one else nearby to potentially catch the captain of the national soccer champions giving her teammate a handjob in her car.
panting, you watch your shorts come down, pooling at your feet so that she has a clear view, both of the harness attached to your hips & the dildo jutting out from between your thighs. you’d be more embarrassed if jackie didn’t immediately close her fist around the shaft again, not leaning out of your space for it this time. she doesn’t kiss you, like part of you expected her to, but you can feel her panting against the side of your neck as she keeps jerking you off, once even spitting into her palm to make its glide along your length smoother with her spit.
needless to say, that car ride home (not long after jackie has made you cum entirely untouched by skillfully grinding the base of the strap-on against your clit with each downward motion, until you went rigid in your seat) is tense, neither of you speaking as you struggle to comprehend what the fuck just happened and how you’re supposed to deal with it, from now on.
mari is the next person to approach you, not long after the jackie incident. you don’t even question how she knows about it, whether fucking everyone on the team has known all along without you noticing, or jackie told her. frankly, you can’t, because by the time it occurs to you that mari has absolutely no business knowing about the strap hidden under your clothes, she’s down on her knees, sputtering around your length in an attempt to fit most of it down her throat.
mari who sucks you off in the locker room showers, hiding in there while she waits for everyone else to leave, only to call you over under the guise of having gotten a dirt stain on her back. turns out there is no stain, and mari is already wrapped in a towel, too (because apparently getting down on her knees for you completely naked would’ve been one step too far) by the time you make your way into the communal showers.
you’re not given the chance to think much of it, though, before you’re slammed against the tiled wall, mari batting her lashes up at you as she taps along your abdomen with her free hand until she locates the bulge, prominent as ever. “oh! so- so jackie was right!” she mutters cryptically, stepping back and pulling her hand away like this was all she was trying to do. only mari’s eyes keep flicking toward the strap’s outline, her bottom lip caught between her teeth thoughtfully. “is it true you let her touch?” she asks, jerking her chin downward. “that-that thing?”
and, sure, she could’ve phrased that nicer, but there’s no time for you to comprehend that, either, before the offer comes, both blunt and even more straightforward than jackie had been about it, when mari blurts that she could ‘even take it in her mouth,’ and that ‘jackie probably didn’t do that, huh?’
a couple of minutes later, and here mari is, kneeling on the tiles in nothing but a towel, still peering up at you with her lips stretched thin around the girth of your cock. she’s got her fingers wrapped around the base, as if you actually need any stimulation there, as if it’s fucking real, jerking off what of the silicone won’t fit into her mouth. once again, you’re lucky it’s not a real dick, actually, because if it were, you doubt you’d last more than a few seconds before stumbling through a pathetic, premature climax with how mari moves along your length, sucking the toy’s tip with an obscene slurping sound before lowering her head once more, and bobbing it along for good measure. her tongue is pressed against its underside, licking over the fake veins, there, so that, when she pulls away, it glistens with saliva.
“jesus, easy.” mari scolds, and you realize that those moans that’d been echoing through the showers were coming from your mouth. your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, watching wide-eyed as she begins covering your shaft in kisses, working her way up before she’s close enough to take the tip into her mouth again.
your head drops back against the tiles, groaning as mari’s shiny lips wrap around your dick once more. she’s taking you so deep her nose is pressed into your abdomen, breath puffing hot against the thin hairs below your navel, cheeks all hollowed out even as mari briefly struggles not to gag.
you have no idea how much time passes, or how long she’s at it. it’s hard to keep track of, while watching her suck you off, but eventually mari pulls back with a sputter, a string of spit stretching between her mouth & the silicone until she wipes it away with the back of her hand. “f-fuck, mar-” you stammer, at a loss for words, “you’re so-”
“yeah, yeah.” mari waves you off as she fixes the towel around her chest and stands. “don’t get all weird about it, gaywad. i just wanted to know if what cap said was true.”
it is lottie who next finds you, once again in the locker room, though this time it’s during practice, and that might be the most shameless approach of them all. like mari, she waits until everyone else has tied their shoes and filed out, and even the last player has finished fixing her hair in the mirror by the door, and hurried after the rest, before finally making her way over to you.
you’re still sitting on the bench, a leg drawn up to your chest as you fiddle with your cleats, and so, with her already being pretty tall, lottie practically towers above you. she tilts her head and smiles, but only when she stays like that, and makes no move to leave, even after you’ve smiled back, you begin to suspect what she’s here for, and that she’s heard about it from either jackie or mari, because, fuck, when has mari ever kept anything to herself? lottie doesn’t mention them, though, as she steps closer, still asking if it’s okay and waiting for your breathless nod before swinging her leg over yours & straddling your lap.
you hiss, your fingers frantically curling around the bench’s edge, unsure where else to put them as the pressure of lottie’s weight presses the base of your strap against your core. “shit, lottie, what are you-”
lottie silences you by wordlessly leaning in and taking your wrists in her hands, guiding them toward her waist. “here,” she whispers, so close you can feel her breath against your face. and then she’s rolling her hips, and you actually think you’re gonna die right then and there. it’s slow at first, a barely detectable motion that could easily pass for her shifting around and getting more comfortable on top of you. you’re still in public, after all, and all it would take for you to get caught is someone walking into the locker room now because they forgot something. but then lottie puts more of her weight into it and picks up the pace, so that the bench creaks under the two of you and there’s no longer any denying that. “fuck…” you whisper, gripping her waist tighter.
lottie smiles and drapes her arms over your shoulders, pulling her upper body even closer to yours as she keeps grinding her hips against the bulge in your pants. you’re face to face like this, so close you’re starting to wonder if she’ll be the first to kiss you. and while she doesn’t (just buries her face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily), the pace still picks up, and if there was any doubt left about it before, it goes straight out the window.
without thinking, you press your hips up, the tip of your dick, judging by her body’s reaction, aligning perfectly with her clit: even through both your shorts, you can feel the warmth, the heat of lottie’s cunt, growing. “l-lottie-” you stammer, eyes fluttering shut at the throbbing of your own clit intensifying. you’re torn, unsure if you’d rather just tear all your clothes off and sink into her, let her ride you for real, or reach down your underwear and touch yourself to take care of the thrumming there, your pulse beating between your legs. there isn’t enough time for either: while you’re busy getting into your own head about it, lottie’s rocking against you becomes more frantic, and your name is gasped against the side of your throat over and over again, in time with the short thrusts, until lottie’s pleasure reaches its peak and she shudders through her climax on top of you, more warmth spreading where she’s rocking her pussy against your cloth covered dick.
her moans subside not long after that, mouth still open as lottie drags it along your neck and then away, pulling back to look at you. you wonder if she’s going to have to change out of those shorts, because, surely, her underwear must be fucking drenched, and what you wouldn’t do to feel for yourself, except she’s already getting up, brushing her hair behind her ear with a small smile before leaving you to it, still sitting on that bench, breathless and soaked.
after lottie in the locker room there is, at first, nothing. neither jackie, nor mari or lottie approach you again, nor do they treat you any differently, and although you sometimes catch the three of them whispering among themselves, the lack of initiative from them doesn't make you think anything of it. it’s at a party at lottie’s, a couple of weeks later, that it next comes up: by nat, of all people.
nat who corners you in one of the many bathrooms in the house, asking you to come with her to fix her makeup, only to bring it up conversationally, there: leaning over the sink, nat swipes at the smudged eyeliner under one eye with the pad of her thumb and starts: “you know i’ve heard some shit about you...” eyes turning to your reflection. instinctively, you look yourself over to check for any visible bulge in your pants, and the next time you drag your gaze back up to natalie in the mirror, she’s grinning. “i fucking knew it.” she says.
nat is also the first on the team who wants you to fuck her properly, not just a hand- or blowjob: right from the start, she’s direct about that, hopping onto the sink before pulling you into the space between her spread legs by the belt loops, unzipping your pants and shoving them down so she can get the strap out. from there, the rest happens in a hazy blur, and, in hindsight, you’ll struggle to recall any details, but between wet kisses and nat pulling your hand between her thighs to make sure she’s wet enough to take it, you eventually end up pushing the strap into her.
nat’s back arches as you sink inside, past that initial stretch, her nails digging into your back through the fabric of your shirt as she moans into your ear and pulls you in for another messy kiss. crossing her ankles behind the small of your back, she forces you so much deeper that another moan spills from her lips. “fuck!” nat pants as she tilts her head to catch your eye.
using the eye contact as an opportunity, you pull your hips back, watching the pleasure flash over nat’s features in real time, then slam forward again, your cock pushing in all the way to the hilt. she groans, too loud given there’s still a whole party right outside that door, but you don’t find it in yourself to tell her to be quiet. instead, you repeat the motion and draw the moan out. it only grows lewder when nat lifts her ass off the sink as much as she can without outright falling off to meet you halfway. “fuck, feels so good,” she sputters, head tipped back, exposing the full length of her throat.
over the sounds nat is making, there’s still the wet squelching each time you sink into her, the wetness dripping from her entrance, soaking your dick. whenever you pull back, there’s also the resistance of her walls clamping down around it, and you can’t help but groan, wishing you could actually feel her cunt and how it squeezes your shaft. for now, you opt for the next best thing: looking down between your bodies, at the sight of nat’s pussy practically swallowing your cock, below where she’s started touching herself, panting as she circles her clit in time with your thrusts.
“fucking- shit!” she moans, only encouraging you to pump your hips harder, fucking her faster, as nat busies herself with desperately rubbing her clit. you’re so caught up in it that neither of you notices when the door opens behind you (and, shit, nat hadn’t locked it when you walked in here, had she?), not even the sudden rush of music & voices from the party beyond it enough to snap you out of it. it’s only at the sound of shauna’s voice, gasping: “fuck, sorry!” and the slam of the door falling shut again, that the two of you belatedly jump apart.
the strap, still stained in nat’s arousal, slaps up against your abdomen with the force with which you pull away from her, and nat, despite shauna no longer being in the room with you, curses under her breath as she hurriedly pulls her clothes back into place. “shit,” she says. “was that shauna?”
“i- i think so?” realizing the moment is well & truly over, you stuff the strap back into your underwear and fumble with your belt to buckle it.
“fuck.” nat shakes her head before hopping down from the sink and looking at you apologetically. “i’ll- i’ll go talk to her, yeah?” she says. “explain this.”
while she’s already steady on her feet again, fully recovered from the interruption, you still feel weak in the knees, caught off guard by how quickly you’ve gone from fucking to this. “yeah, okay.” without much of another choice, you nod in agreement, running a hand through your sweaty hair as you watch nat slip out of the bathroom.
you don’t know what nat said to shauna, or what happened after, between all of them. as a matter of fact, you don’t know how it could ever come down to this, no matter what she said to anyone. because it is, for lack of a better word, fucking insane; this habit you fall into. having had something going on with nearly half the team at this point, it’s not nearly as awkward as you would’ve imagined it would be, had you given the possibility of having sex with one of your teammates in front of the rest any particular thought. but not even in your wildest fantasies did you ever picture yourself in that position.
so, at the end of the day, it’s probably a good thing, letting the others take care of that, figure it out behind your back before proposing their plan to you. it does become a thing, rather quickly. a good luck charm, is how jackie likes putting it, because you can hardly go around calling it what it actually is outside the locker room: before games, sometimes after them, as a treat, you’ll come together in the locker rooms, usually either earlier, before any staff can get there, or long after everyone else has left, so there’s no chance you’ll ever get caught bending one of them over, or having them lie back on the benches, legs spread around you as the others watch you fuck them, waiting for their turn to either take the strap or clean it up, afterwards, tasting their teammates on it.
