—

it's been a long day. you're a camera operator for the sidemen and you've been on the sidelines filming the charity match, so you've been on your feet for ages and you're exhausted.

you're not complaining too much, of course. you genuinely love your job, and you love the boys you work for. you couldn't be prouder of them, selling out wembley and raising so much for charity. plus, you couldn't possibly be mad about watching them run around playing football for 90 minutes. they had somehow cultivated a uniquely hot group of friends. the seven of them were already a good-looking gang, but throw in the odd george clarkey, a will lenney, a chrismd... they were an exceptionally sexy crew. and it was literally your job to watch them. so yeah, you'll put up with the occasional 12-hour day in exchange for the opportunity to drool a little.

the stadium had pretty much cleared out by now. you'd just stuck around for some extra b-roll footage, but you were finally making your way down to the locker room to change and head home. you assumed all the boys had long since left to go celebrate, so you walked straight in without knocking, but were startled when you were promptly greeted by not one, but two pairs of blue eyes. the prettiest blues of the bunch, in your opinion. george and harry. all the boys were fit, sure. but these two… they were something special. you caught yourself staring at these two a little too often. and here they were. stood in nothing but towels wrapped low around their waists.

"oh shit, sorry lads," you turn to walk out. "thought everyone was gone."

"no no, you're alright," george stops you. "you can come in."

you freeze and spin back around slowly, keeping your eyes glued to the floor. "I was just um, coming to grab my bag and change," you mutter, trying to direct your line of vision anywhere but at them.

"you can look at us, y'know," harry scoffs lightheartedly. "I won't call HR."

you laugh awkwardly, feeling your cheeks go red at the comment. you glance up to meet his gaze, his infuriatingly knowing smirk silently saying a thousand words.

"I don't even have an HR to call," george chimes in. "so by all means. I won't tell my mum."

your eyes flicker over to him with a small smile tugging at your lips. his eyes were a bit softer than harry's, but still oddly... mischievous. why did this feel like a trap?

"were you guys, like... waiting for me, or something?" you question, before immediately worrying that you sounded deeply self-centered. why the hell would they be waiting for you when half the girls and gays in london would rip their fingernails off to be in the same room as them?

"suppose that depends..." harry starts, taking half a step towards you. you raise an eyebrow.

"would you have wanted us to be?" george finishes.

"I'm not sure I understand the question..." you reply honestly. "can one of you maybe just explain to me what's happening here, if something is happening here, like I'm stupid? in the interest of time?"

you figure it's better to be safe than sorry. you'd truly love to believe that they were about to propose some illicit threesome in the wembley stadium locker room, but surely that couldn't be the case. these boys, your friends, who had never really come onto you in any truly significant way, were not suddenly trying to fuck you... right?

they glance at each other, before looking back at you. "well, we'd hoped to be a bit more delicate about it, but..." george disclaims.

"we're not blind, y'know," harry cuts in, getting impatient. "we see how you watch us on the pitch," he continues smugly, moving forward. "you must be thrilled that it's literally your job to keep your eyes on us, ain't you? chewin' on your lip all hungry behind the camera, wishing it was you we was tacklin' out there." his voice gradually descends into a growl as he gets closer and closer. your face goes pink at his outburst, your pulse quickening in response to his (accurate) charges.

“I saw you get all fidgety when I scored today,” george adds with a cheeky tone. “well cute, that was. seeing you get all hot n’ bothered.” you feel your cheeks get warm and hide your face in your hands.

“don’t get all shy on us now, princess. we've been watching you too,” harry admits, a salacious tone in his voice as he peels your hand away to make you look at him. “prancing around on set in them little skirts, bending over to get things out of your camera bag, running in tops your tits can hardly stay in as it is. lookin’ up at me through those pretty lashes in a room full of people like you're fuckin' gagging for it," he recalls, circling you slowly like a lion playing with its food. "and I know damn well just by the look on your face that you're turned on by the thought of that alone." you gulp, feeling jittery and vulnerable.

"all that being said,” george digresses, “we're not too happy about how things went out there today as you can imagine,” he also moves in closer, the two of them now starting to crowd you slightly. "and we're feelin' a bit pent up, y'know. frustrated."

"so w-what?" you manage, your breath shaky.

"so..." harry pushes on. "we thought what better way to relieve some stress than to lock that door," he gestures to the entrance without breaking eye contact, "and fuck your little brains out."

your eyes widen, having figured out where this was going but not expecting him to be so crude. you look from harry to george for some indication that he's joking, but one never comes.

"haz tells me you've revealed in a past truth or dare that you like it a bit rough, no? and that you quite enjoy being on the more submissive end of things..." george notes with a smug look, carelessly playing with a strand of your hair. "how would you feel about being our, shall we say, consolation prize?"

you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling embarrassed all over again about the time you drunkenly confessed to some of your darkest sexual fantasies in a room full of people, including your employers, but you could feel sweat prickling on the back of your neck. the thought of george and harry calling you their consolation prize — like the object they got instead of the actual trophy they'd have received if they won the match — turned you on to no end.

one of the boys cups your jaw and forces you to look up. you open your eyes and confirm it was harry, his calloused fingertips setting your skin on fire as they wait patiently for an answer from you. you almost have to commend them for their boldness really. or, at least, for how well they knew you. if you'd said no now, they'd absolutely have a lawsuit on their hands. but, instead of a case, you were merely a puddle, entirely at their mercy.

"yes or no, darling," george hums from behind you. you now stood sandwiched between them, their bare chests pressed against you and their cocks already getting hard through their thin towels. your whole body felt like it was vibrating with anticipation, restless but frozen. your heart pounds so hard there's no doubt they can both feel it.

"y-yes. yes," you whisper, as if there was any world in which you'd have been able to resist the roman god in front of you and the greek god behind you.

george taps you on the hip and slides his fingers under your top, wordlessly instructing you to raise your arms so he could remove it. "there's a good girl," he praises quietly in response, making you need to bite back a little whine. harry licks his lips predatorily, watching through lidded eyes your newly-exposed chest heaving with each shallow breath. he drags a large hand up to palm your tits as he pulls you in by your jaw for a deep, rough kiss, his tongue finding yours instantly and claiming your mouth as his own. george's fingers dig into your hips with a bruising pressure as his teeth sink into your neck, and you moan quietly into harry's mouth at the sensation. you lose a hand in each boy's hair, tugging at the roots and pulling gorgeous soft groans from them both that drive you mad.

harry slips his thumbs under the waistband of your joggers and swiftly slides them off, letting them pool at your feet. you step out of them and kick them away, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties, pressed up against george and harry in their towels with very visible tents on display.

spinning around, you wrap your arms around george's neck and bring him in for a kiss, grinding back against harry simultaneously. george's hands trail around your body, one on your chest as the other dances around, but never breaches, the waistband of your panties.

harry suddenly pulls your arms away from george and holds them behind your back against his own chest, drawing a gasp from your lungs. you know immediately that he's way too strong for you to possibly wriggle your way out of his grip, as he props himself against the table behind him. he sucks on your neck lightly, making you sigh with pleasure despite the uncertainty of what's happening next making your heart rate increase.

george steps back to leer at you, no doubt looking perfectly helpless, almost completely naked and unable to move.

"well ain't this a pretty sight," he ruminates, a wicked grin on his face.

"isn't she just? I told you, mate," harry replies. "just bloody gorgeous, this one." he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

you writhe under their gaze, harry's grip steady. you squeeze your thighs together slightly, partially for some relief, and partially because you are going to be genuinely embarrassed when they realize that the way they're talking about you is making you soak through the fabric between your legs. unfortunately, they see right through you.

"ah ah, what d'you think you're doin'?" harry inquires, lifting a foot off the floor to push your knees apart. "trying to have fun without us?"

"no no, just um, readjusting."

george scoffs. "readjusting?" he strides towards you and firmly presses a finger against the fabric without warning, making you inhale sharply, and he promptly chuckles at his discovery. "oh my, harry, we might not even need to touch her."

you can't help the pathetic little whimper that escapes your throat in response, and then they both laugh.

"aww, poor baby," harry mocks. "don't think she liked that one very much, georgie. did you, sweetheart?"

you shake your head fervently, the thought of going untouched after all of this making you want to die a little bit. you needed something to happen after all of this suspense, all this tension.

"you want us to touch you, baby?" harry whispers, making your eyes flutter.

"mmhmm," you hum in reply. your hands still behind your back but harry's grip loosened, you dropped them down slightly to glide your fingers along the length of his cock, on clear display through his towel. he shivers at the touch, his head falling forward, hitting your back as his arms wrap around you, fingers slipping under your waistband and connecting with your heat.

you moan out, the release of finally being touched feeling nearly as good as the release of an actual orgasm. you free your arms from behind harry and reach out for george. you pull him back in for a brief kiss before breaking away from harry.

leading them over to a bench, you sit harry at one end and have george stand at the other, putting yourself in the middle on your hands and knees. you face harry, immediately pulling his cock deep into your throat, and present your arse to george.

the sound of harry's moans would probably keep you awake at night for the foreseeable future, fueling your wettest dreams and filthiest fantasies about sucking his fat cock in the sidemen offices. you trail the tip of your tongue along every vein, rhythmically bobbing your head up and down as he forms a ponytail with your hair, creating a hard suction whilst making eye contact that makes him whimper so desperately that you thought you might cum from the sound alone without being touched. you let him fuck your throat hard, your eyes rolling back, tears pouring and drool spilling from your mouth, taking him as deep as you can. you swallow every fucking drop when he cums and suck him dry as he grinds against your face greedily aching for more.

you somehow manage to do all of this while george fucked you to absolute hell and back. he laid down on his back under you, attaching his hot mouth to your core and making you moan out around harry's cock. his plump lips encircle your aching bundle of nerves as his thick fingers fucked up into you, curling in the perfect spot to make you whine with every thrust. his sharp-witted tongue worked you to orgasm in minutes, pulling a scream from your gut as his hands gripped your arse, encouraging you to use his pretty face to ride out your high.

you were already a shaking mess when he repositioned himself and slammed his thick cock into you, making you cry out again and again, keening and mewling in pleasure as he smashed into your cervix with unrelenting force.

harry was done before george, and was now just enjoying watching you get fucking demolished. in a moment of tenderness, harry wiped a tear off your face with his thumb and stroked your hair gently. “doin’ so good for us, love," he whispered, making your eyes flutter and roll back in bliss.

and then, as if a switch had been flipped, harry wrapped a large hand around your throat and pinned you down by it against the bench, before leaning in to spit in your mouth and jam his fingers between your lips. george let out a sadistic laugh as fresh tears streamed down your face, drool seeping out around harry's fingers as he shushed you quietly, still looking smug but at least releasing your neck where he had it pinned to the bench to stroke your hair again.

“silly girl, crying as if I can’t feel you absolutely gushing right now. you just love being used up like a little toy, eh?” george negs, his pace speeding up despite his rhythm starting to falter. he was right, of course, you wailed as you spilled out on george's cock yet again, yelping as he planted a hard smack on your arse, a red-hot sting lingering on your skin.

"bless her," harry hums. "just a sweet little cunt and a greedy wet mouth ready for us to use whenever we want." he pushes his fingers deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around them, and george feels you clench around his cock. he groans at the sensation, feeling himself nearing his own peak.

"fuck, make her do that again," he hisses, gripping your hips harder as he chases his high. harry removes his fingers from your throat and slips a hand under you, connecting his wet fingers to your throbbing clit and rubbing small circles around the sensitive bundle. a high-pitched whine pours out of you at the intense overstimulation and you writhe from the combination of pain and pleasure. harry puts an arm across your back to hold you down, and you sob as george's cock twitches inside of you and he finally cums, pumping into you as you squeeze around him, milking his cock dry.

he pulls out and they finally let you collapse, your legs aching from the position you've been in on the bench. before you can even take a breath, harry picks you up and flips you onto your back, attaching his mouth to your clit, making you scream out. your hands fly to his hair as you beg for relief, his name spilling from your mouth over and over.

"shhh," george soothes, squatting down by your side and stroking your cheek lightly. "relax, gorgeous. we're not going to end this without making you cum one last time. what kind of gentlemen would we be if we did that?"

you arch your back off the bench, grinding on harry's face in a desperate need to feel release. you finally feel the coil in your tummy tightening once again, and your whole body tenses as his tongue pushes you off the cliff. you snap, tugging on harry's locks as you groan loudly, your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall as harry laps at you hungrily, cleaning up the mess as fast as you make it.

you breathe shakily, wheezing slightly as you come down. harry pulls back, wiping his face before helping you put your legs down and sitting you upright on the bench. your head falls to his shoulder immediately as george hands you a bottle of water. you laugh lightly, the gesture feeling a bit like a regular favor between teammates in a locker room, except the three of you were completely naked and they’d just fucked you within an inch of your life.

“you okay?” harry asks gently, rubbing your back. it’s the appropriate question to ask, of course. and you knew he’d ask it — aftercare is to be expected. but bodies are weird, and you sometimes got emotional after intense orgasms. and you felt it happening now. your eyes watered slightly as you nodded, trying to shake it off, because you knew if they attempted to comfort you, you’d break.

it was fruitless. they hear you sniffle and immediately look concerned. george wraps an arm around you. “hey, what’s wrong?” fuck.

you pull your knees up to your chest, despite the movement hurting like hell, and bury your face in them. “ughhh, fuck. shit. I’m fine. it’s just, bodies are weird. orgasms. hormones. it happens. I’m fine.”

“hey, c’mon mate,” harry pats your knee. “look at us.”

you force yourself to lift your head from your knees, just enough to see harry’s clear blue eyes looking down at you worriedly.

“did we… we didn’t push you too far or anything, did we? you, you could’ve stopped us. I didn’t mean to d—“ you put your hand up, stopping harry mid-sentence.

“no, no haz. I promise, you didn’t do anything wrong. that was genuinely like, so fun. it was great. it is seriously just hormones. I’m literally emotional because I came too hard.”

they laugh, feeling slightly more at ease at your reassurance.

“you sure you’re alright?” george checks, needing his own confirmation.

“yes, I’m sure,” you assure with a smile. “…we may benefit from a safe word in the future though.”

both boys’ eyebrows raise at your comment like puppies’ ears do at the sound of cars, and you can’t help but giggle at the excitement on their faces. it was cute, you thought, how quickly they reverted back to their regular, dorky, sweet selves once the sex was over. it was comforting.

“the future?” harry inquires.

“oh, I’m sorry,” you tease. “were you not interested in fucking me as well? my mistake.” you stand from the bench and go to pick your clothes up off the floor. before you can take two steps, harry’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you back onto his lap, making you yelp and burst out laughing. “you cheeky shit,” he growls.

“I do believe it’ll be my turn to shut this pretty little mouth up as well,” george snarls, his thumb swiping your bottom lip.