#wrestlefic

You knew the instant he opened the box and saw the Meta glasses inside that there's a strong possibility you should've given the Christmas gift a second thought. The mischievous glint in his eye and the way his lips curled into that deliciously evil smirk told you everything.

He had a plan.

You watched the way Tama's dark eyes lit up and then cut over to you, studying your face with an intensity that made heat pool low in your belly.

"Baby, you know I respect you, right?"

You nodded, unsure where he was going, your heart already starting to race. "Yeah..."

"Good," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower, rougher, "because I'm about to do some real disrespectful things to you and then we’re gonna watch it all back from my point of view."

A shiver ran down your spine—anticipation mixed with arousal. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact yet dripping with promise, made your thighs clench together involuntarily.

Tama slid the glasses on slowly, deliberately, adjusting the fit over his sharp features with careful precision. The sleek black frames suited him perfectly, making him look like some kind of futuristic god. The lenses tinted slightly, a subtle glow indicating they're active and recording. He tapped the side once, twice, then looked at you through them with an expression that was pure predatory hunger.

"These are incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pulled you close by the waist. Strong hands roamed down your sides, fingers digging into your hips possessively while he kissed you, tongue sliding against yours with hungry urgency. You could taste the mint from his toothpaste earlier, mixed with something uniquely him—masculine and intoxicating.

A man starved and on a mission.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt to trace the curve of your spine, gripping your ass and pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly how hard he already was. The kiss deepened, became more demanding, his teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging until you gasped into his mouth.

You broke the kiss just enough to whisper against his lips, breathless, "Definitely keep them on. I want you to see everything through them while you fuck me."

His breath caught audibly, pupils dilating even behind the tinted lenses. A grin spread across his face—slow, wicked, devastating. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman," he growled, but he didn't hesitate, lifting you effortlessly onto the edge of the bed like you weighed nothing. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, ankles locking behind him.

Tama's mouth claimed your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks that likely wouldn't fade for days. The wet heat of his tongue soothed each bite before he moved to the next spot, marking you, claiming you. His hands yanked your shirt up and over your head with impatient urgency, messing up your hair. Your bra followed, tossed aside carelessly, as he palmed your breasts with those large, calloused hands against your smooth flesh, the contrast making you moan.

"Fuck, I love these," he muttered, almost reverently, before his thumbs circled your hardening nipples with maddening slowness. You arched into his touch, moaning louder as he pinches and tugs, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers and sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your pussy was already soaking through your panties.

"Tama..." you breathed, needing more.

"I know, baby. I got you," he promised, his voice a low rumble that you felt in your chest.

Pushing you back onto the mattress, he stripped off his own shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest and abs…the product of countless hours in the gym. His caramel skin gleamed in the soft bedroom light, and you couldn't help but reach out to trace the defined lines of his abdomen. The glasses stayed perched on his nose, their faint blue hue making him look even more intense, like he's analyzing every inch of you, recording every reaction.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he said, his eyes roaming over your body with open appreciation. "And you're so fucking wet already, aren't you?"

You nodded, unable to form words as he hooked his fingers into your skirt and panties, dragging them down your legs in one smooth motion. The fabric clung to your slick pussy for a moment before coming free, and you heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw how ready you were for him.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, staring at your glistening folds. "Look at you. All this for me?" "All for you," you confirmed, spreading your legs wider in invitation.

He dropped to his knees between your thighs, spreading them even wider with strong hands, his grip firm on your inner thighs. The position left you completely exposed, vulnerable, and the way he was looking at you, like you were a feast he was about to devour, made you throb with need.

Without warning, his tongue dove in, lapping at your folds with flat, broad strokes that made your back arch off the bed. The first contact was electric, sending shockwaves through your entire body. You gasped, fingers threading through his short hair as he worked you over with expert precision. He knew exactly what you liked, exactly how to make you fall apart. How well he knew you was one of the long list of things that made him so dangerous.

Tama sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue in that way that always drove you crazy. The glasses reflected the dim light as he glanced up, watching your face contort in ecstasy. Maybe the AR feed enhanced the view for him, maybe he was getting some kind of biometric readout of your pleasure, but you didn’t care. The way he's devouring you is pure fire, his mouth hot and wet and devastatingly perfect.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you whimpered, hips bucking against his face. He groaned into your pussy, the vibration making you shudder and cry out. The sound was obscene, wet and hungry, filling the room along with your increasingly desperate moans.

Then he slid two thick fingers inside you, curling them immediately to hit that perfect spot deep inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids. You clenched around the intrusion, your inner walls fluttering as he pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly in your core.

"Tama... please... I'm gonna—" you begged, thighs starting to tremble on either side of his head. But he pulled back just as you're about to come, and you actually whined at the loss. He stood up, chin glistening with your arousal, and shed his pants and boxers in one motion. His cock springs free, thick and hard and absolutely perfect, long enough to hit all the right spots, thick enough to stretch you deliciously. The tip was already glistening with pre-cum, and you licked your lips at the sight.

You reached for it immediately, wrapping your hand around the velvety length and stroking slowly from base to tip. He was hot and hard in your palm, and you felt him pulse against your fingers. Tama's eyes fluttered closed for a moment behind the glasses, his jaw clenching.

"Fuck, your hands feel so good," he groaned.

"Want my mouth instead?" you offered, already leaning forward.

"Next time," he promised, positioning himself between your legs. "Right now I need to be inside you. Need to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my cock."

"Then take it," you murmured, guiding him to your entrance. "Watch me through those glasses while you fuck me."

Something feral flashed across his face. Tama thrust in deep with one powerful stroke, filling you completely, stretching you around his thickness. You cried out, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave red marks as he starts pounding into you immediately, setting a brutal pace. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts, the headboard starting to knock against the wall.

The glasses don't slip; firmly perched on his face, eyes locked on yours, or whatever augmented vision he's seeing, while his hips snap forward relentlessly. Each thrust drove the air from your lungs, made your breasts bounce, sent pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"You feel that?" he panted, his voice strained.

"Feel how deep I am? How perfectly you take my cock?"

"Yes! God, yes!" you cried out, meeting his thrusts with your own, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your mingled moans and gasps. He grabbed your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders to drive even deeper, changing the angle so his cock hit your cervix with every brutal plunge. The new position made you see stars, made you scream his name. Your hands clutched at the sheets, twisting them in your fists as pleasure built higher and higher.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he pants, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust. "So tight. So wet. Taking me so fucking well."

You clenched around him deliberately, milking his shaft, and he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made you even wetter. Your breasts bounced with each impact, and you saw his eyes track the movement behind the glasses, recording everything.

"Touch yourself," he commanded. "Play with those pretty tits for me."

You obeyed immediately, hands coming up to cup your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples the way you liked. The added stimulation made you moan louder, made your pussy clench tighter around him.

"That's it, baby. So fucking sexy," he praised, his thrusts becoming even harder, more desperate. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the emptiness. But then he was flipping you over with strong hands, pulling you onto all fours. You barely had time to brace yourself before he slapped your ass hard, once, twice, the sharp crack of palm against flesh echoing in the room. The sting bloomed into heat, into pleasure, and you pushed back against him, silently begging for more.

"Look at this ass," he muttered appreciatively, kneading the reddened flesh. "Fucking perfect." Then he was slamming back inside from behind, somehow even deeper in this position. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you onto him as he fucks you faster, harder, the new angle making you feel every inch of him. You dropped down to your forearms, arching your back to take him deeper, and the change made you both groan.

Through the haze of lust, you glanced back over your shoulder and saw the glasses still on, framing his determined expression. His jaw was clenched, brow furrowed in concentration, and he looked absolutely gorgeous like this. Lost in pleasure, lost in you. Sweat dripped down his temple, his chest, making his skin gleam. "You're recording all this?" you managed to gasp out between thrusts.

"Every. Fucking. Second," he confirmed, punctuating each word with a particularly deep thrust. "Gonna watch you come apart on my cock over and over again."

The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. "Tama... I'm close..."

"I know, baby. I can feel you getting tighter. Can feel that pussy trying to milk my cock." His voice was rough, strained. "Come for me. Want to feel it. Want to record it."

He reached around to rub your clit in tight, fast circles, and the dual sensation shattered you completely. You screamed his name, pussy spasming around his cock as waves of orgasm crashed over you…intense, overwhelming, making your whole body shake. Your arms gave out and you collapsed forward onto the mattress, but he didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were sobbing with the intensity of it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Tama chanted, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Gonna come. Gonna fill this pussy up."

"Do it," you begged, still trembling. "Want to feel it."

Tama followed seconds later with a roar, burying himself to the hilt and flooding you with hot cum, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied himself. He groaned low in his throat, hips jerking with aftershocks, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both panting hard, bodies slick with sweat. Then he carefully pulled out, and you felt his cum start to leak out of you, dripping down your thighs. The sensation made you shiver.

He collapsed beside you on the bed, pulling you into his arms immediately. The Meta glasses finally slipped off as he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your lips—soft, tender kisses so different from the brutal fucking moments before.

"Holy shit," you breathed against his chest, your heart still racing.

"Yeah," he agreed, his own chest heaving. "That was..."

"Incredible," you finished.

You lay there for a while, just breathing together, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back while you came down from the high. The room smelled like sex and sweat, the sheets were a tangled mess, and you were pretty sure the neighbors had heard everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

After about ten minutes, once your breathing had returned to normal and the sweat had cooled on your skin, Tama reached over to the nightstand where he'd placed the glasses.

"Want to watch?" he asked, a new kind of excitement in his voice.

Your stomach flipped, anticipation mixed with a hint of nervousness. "Now?"

"Why not?" He grinned, that same mischievous expression from earlier. "I want you to see what I saw. Want to watch you fall apart from my perspective."

You bit your lip, considering, then nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Let's watch."

Tama sat up against the headboard, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back against his chest. He was still naked, and you could feel him starting to harden again against your lower back. He slipped the glasses on and tapped the side, navigating through menus you couldn't see.

"Okay, it's queued up," he said. "Ready?"

"Ready."

He tapped once more, and suddenly the glasses projected a holographic display that you could both see—floating in the air in front of you, about the size of a large TV screen. The image quality was stunning, crystal clear, and unmistakably from Tama's point of view.

The video started with him opening the box, the camera capturing your face as you watched him. You looked excited, hopeful, with no idea what was about to happen. Then came that moment—his eyes meeting yours through the camera, that smirk forming.

"Look at you," Tama murmured in your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist. "So sweet. Had no idea what you were in for."

You watched yourself on screen, saw the moment your expression changed when he made his declaration about doing disrespectful things to you. Saw the way your pupils dilated, your lips parted slightly, the flush that crept up your neck. "I can see exactly when you got turned on," he observed, his hand sliding up to cup your breast casually. "Right there. That's when you knew you were in trouble."

The video continued. The kiss, his hands on your body, and you were mesmerized by the perspective. You could see yourself through his eyes, see how he saw you, and it was intoxicating. The camera captured every detail: the way your body responded to his touch, the expressions of pleasure on your face, the way you looked at him with such desire.

When the video reached the part where he went down on you, you gasped. The angle was incredible. He could see everything. Your pussy glistening, the way your thighs trembled, your hands in his hair, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, look at how wet you were," Tama groaned, his cock now fully hard and pressing against you. His hand slid down your stomach, fingers finding your clit and starting to rub slow circles. "Look at how pretty your pussy looks."

You whimpered, already getting wet again despite having just come. Watching yourself like this, from his perspective, was incredibly erotic. You could see what he saw, understand what drove him wild.

The video showed him sliding his fingers inside you, and you could hear your own moans, see your body arch and writhe. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his fingers on your clit matching the rhythm of the video. "Every touch, every lick—you react so beautifully."

When the video reached the penetration, you both groaned. The angle showed your pussy stretching around his cock, taking him inch by inch, and it was obscene and gorgeous and incredibly hot.

"Look at how well you take me," Tama said, his voice rough with renewed arousal. His fingers worked faster on your clit. "Look at that tight pussy swallowing my cock."

You were transfixed, watching the video of him fucking you, seeing your face contorted in pleasure, hearing your screams and moans. The way your breasts bounced, the way your body moved with his thrusts—it was like watching porn, except it was you, and it was so much hotter than you'd imagined.

"Tama..." you breathed, already feeling another orgasm building from his fingers on your clit and the visual stimulation of the video.

"I know, baby," he said. "Watch yourself come. Watch how fucking beautiful you are when you fall apart."

The video showed the position change, him flipping you over, and the new angle was even more explicit. You could see everything…your ass, your pussy stretched around him, the way your body took the impact of his thrusts.

"This is my favorite part," he admitted, his free hand coming up to pinch your nipple. "Look at this ass. Look at how it jiggles when I fuck you." You moaned, grinding back against his hard cock, his fingers still working your clit expertly. On screen, you watched yourself come, saw your whole body tense and shake, heard yourself scream his name.

"That's it," Tama encouraged, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me again. Come while you watch yourself come."

The combination was too much, his fingers, his voice, the video, his hard cock pressed against you. Your second orgasm hit suddenly, making you cry out and clench around nothing, your body shaking in his arms. He held you through it, his fingers gentling but not stopping, prolonging the pleasure.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing your neck. "So fucking perfect."

The video was still playing, showing the aftermath, but you were barely paying attention anymore. You turned in his arms, straddling his lap, his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Again?" he asked, eyebrows raised but clearly not opposed, given how hard he was.

"Again," you confirmed, sinking down onto him in one smooth motion. You were so wet that he slid in easily despite his size, and you both groaned at the sensation.

"Fuck, you're insatiable," he said, but his hands gripped your hips, helping you move.

"You started this," you reminded him, starting to ride him slowly, rolling your hips. "With your glasses and your recording and your 'disrespectful things.'"

He laughed, the sound turning into a moan as you clenched around him. "Best Christmas present ever," he managed.

You rode him slowly at first, savoring the feeling of fullness, the stretch, the way he hit all the right spots. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass, playing with your breasts, pulling you down for deep, hungry kisses.

The holographic display was still playing in the background, now showing the final moments of your first round, and the surreal experience of fucking him while watching yourself fuck him was incredibly erotic.

"Faster," he urged, his hips starting to thrust up to meet you. "Want to feel you come on my cock again."

You obliged, picking up the pace, bouncing on him harder. The new angle hit different spots, made you moan louder. His hands guided your movements, helped you find the perfect rhythm.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, and you brought your hand down to rub your clit while you rode him. The added stimulation made you gasp, made your movements more erratic.

"That's it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock. Want to feel it."

It didn't take long, you were already so sensitive from two previous orgasms, and the combination of his cock inside you and your fingers on your clit pushed you over the edge quickly. You came with a cry, your pussy clenching rhythmically around him, your body shuddering.

Tama thrust up hard a few more times, then followed you over, groaning your name as he came inside you for the second time, adding to the mess already there.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard again, sweaty and satisfied and thoroughly exhausted.

"Okay," you panted. "Now I'm done."

He laughed, his chest rumbling under your cheek. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. For now anyway. You've thoroughly ruined me."

"Good," he said, satisfaction clear in his voice. He reached up and finally turned off the glasses, the holographic display disappearing. "Merry Christmas to us."

You smiled against his skin. "Merry Christmas. Though I think you got more out of this gift than I did."

"Are you kidding?" He tilted your chin up to look at him. "We both got exactly what we wanted. And we have the footage to prove it."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You're going to watch that constantly, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed without shame. "And we're making more. This is just the start."

A thrill ran through you at the promise in his words. "Just the start, huh?"

"Just the start," he repeated, kissing you deeply. "I've got so many ideas for these glasses."

And looking at that mischievous glint returning to his eyes, you believed him. This was definitely just the start.

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Card #1 - Wrestledream - (Softer/New Relationship)

Love is a Weakness - Love is regarded as a negative influence.

Cupid's Arrow - Falling in love personified by the love god, Cupid.

Rivalry as Courtship - A romance that stems from two characters' rivalry.

I Didn't Mean to Turn You On - Unintentionally making someone fall in love with you.

Laugh of Love - The tendency to laugh when in the presence of your love interest.

Unresolved Sexual Tension - Two characters are obviously attracted to each other, but they never act on their feelings.

Inconvenient Attraction - A character falls in love when they'd rather not.

No Challenge = No Satisfaction - I'm only happy when there's a challenge!

How Dad Met Mom - Come around, kids, this is the story of how your father and I fell in love.

Puppy Love - Romance between pre-pubescent children. [Note: This is on the list because of Swerve's famous playlist choice to include 'Awaken, My Love' for the Deathmatch, which includes the line 'So This isn't just Puppy Love'. Like all prompts on these cards, interpret as you see fit.]

Love at First Punch - Falling in love with somebody who beat you up.

Forgotten First Meeting - Forgetting that you first met your love interest long ago.

Best Her to Bed Her - A man must defeat a strong woman in combat if he wishes to romance her.

Crazy in the Head, Crazy in the Bed - A character is eccentric or outright insane, which makes them more appealing in the romantic and sexual sense.

Card #2 - Full Gear - (Violently Horny Vampire Vibes)

Stalker with a Crush - A character who follows the person they're in love with everywhere.

Stalker without a Crush - Whose obsession is unrelated to romantic or sexual feelings.

Too Much Alike - When applied to romantic relationships (or, less commonly, friendships). Two people break apart because they're too similar to each other; their shared traits clash and/or they have the same traits they don't like in themselves.

It's Personal - It sure is. You hurt someone dear to me. Now I'm gonna fucking kill you!

In Love with Your Carnage - A villainous or morally ambiguous character falls for someone because of their violent tendencies.

Breaking and Bloodsucking - Vampires break into bedrooms to attack women.

Hemo Erotic - A fetish for biting and drinking blood.

Must Be Invited - A supernatural creature cannot enter a dwelling without permission from the homeowners.

Yandere - They're so in love with somebody that they'll murder anybody who stands in their way.

Yandere Couple - Two people driven murderous with love end up together.

Combat Sadomasochist - Someone who enjoys both inflicting harm on (and also receiving harm from) other people.

I Hate You, Vampire Dad - Hating someone who turned you into a monster.

It's Not You, It's My Enemies - Being with your lover puts them in harm's way.

Consuming Passion - Cannibalism with sexy undertones.

Red String of Fate - Two characters are bound by fate to be together.

Arch-Enemy - The main villain of the story is usually (though not necessarily always) the primary nemesis of the main hero.

Interplay of Sex and Violence - Violence and sex happening around the same time as each other, or even using violence as foreplay.

Card #3 - Revolution Through All In - (Angst Vibes)

Came Back with a Vengeance - You ruined my life and sent me away to rot in exile, but I'm back with new skills, a new identity, and a meticulous plan to destroy everything you love.

The Mistress - A woman whom a married man cheats on his wife with.

I Gave My Word - May indicate Honor Before Reason.

Wanting Is Better Than Having - Once you've gotten all that you've wanted, life becomes boring and unrewarding.

Career Versus Man - A woman must give up her career if she gets married.

Awful Wedded Life - An unhappy and dreary marriage.

Reformed, but Rejected - A villain seeking redemption finds that no one trusts them.

Daddy Had a Good Reason for Abandoning You - A parent gives an excuse for why they left their child.

Descent into Addiction - A character's story arc involves them becoming dependent on a substance.

Am I Just a Toy to You? - A character confronts the other about how serious they think their relationship is.

Motive Decay - A villain gradually discards the reasons why they became evil in the first place, either losing their sympathy if they keep at it or give up their villainy after no longer caring about their Freudian Excuse

The Perils of Being the Best - Being The Ace has many prices to pay.

Success As Revenge - The best way to repay you for what you've done to me is by living a good life while you end up being miserable.

Accomplice by Inaction - You did nothing to save me from injustice even though you could. Therefore, I'm gonna end you!

Off the Wagon - A recovering alcoholic starts drinking again.

Card #4 - All Out - (Burning Romance)

Rationalizing the Overkill - My revenge ended up going too far/causing collateral damage, but it was well worth it!

Devoted to You - A character who inspires obsessive devotion in those around them.

Victory Is Boring - A character succeeds, but doesn't know what to do afterwards.

Destructive Romance - A deeply unhappy and dysfunctional romantic relationship (sometimes to the point of being abusive).

Fate Drives Us Together - If two people keep encountering each other, it means they're meant to be together.

Ignored Epiphany - A villain considers redeeming themselves, then decides not to.

Loving a Shadow - Falling in love with the ideal of someone rather than the actual person.

Vengeance Feels Empty - I've successfully gotten my revenge... now I have no idea what to do.

Fully-Embraced Fiend - Someone turned into a vampire decides to embrace their transformation rather than fight it.

Grand Romantic Gesture - A big, elaborate event done for someone to show your love for them.

Conducting the Carnage - So what if the world is ending? I'm just going to stand here and move my hands like a conductor. Whatever.

He Who Fights Monsters - Because of my goal for revenge, I've become just like the bastard who harassed me. Good.

Fanatical Fire - YOU SHALL BURN!!!!

Flames of Love - Fire represents the passion in a relationship.

The bell above the heavy wooden door dinged, signifying new customers. A group of 3 men walked in looking as out of place as anyone could in the old country tavern. All 3 had a familiarity about them, clearly related, brothers probably, but noticeably different.

You didn’t get many out of towners in this part of the state, rundown and backwoods as it were, and certainly none that looked like these 3. Tone, athletic builds, caramel skin, dark hair and equally dark eyes. Not that your little town wasn’t welcoming to new faces, everyone just seemed to bypass this little hole in the wall town. Truth be told, it wasn’t even a blip on a road map.

This bar, your bar, inherited from your uncle after he passed, was one of the first places anyone in the small little neck of the woods came looking if someone was missing. Chances are, locals, handful that still lived around the area, could be found perched on one of your barstools, except on Sundays, of course, when everyone in town was filling old creaky pews in the little church on the corner, listening to one of Pastor Johnson’s hell fire and brimstone sermons. Nonetheless, even after church on Sundays, you still opened your doors, no alcohol to be served on that day, but the bar served as the towns Sunday banquet hall for after church potluck and unofficial town meetings. Miss Lottie was always eager to update everyone on the latest town gossip. No doubt, these three men would be a favorite topic of hers this coming Sunday.

You wiped your hands on the towel hanging from your apron and smiled, “Evening, fellas. Welcome to The Outhouse, what can I get yall?” Their order was simple, just 3 beer, the middle one smiled politely and added “whatever you have on tap is fine”.

You busied yourself cleaning glasses and counters, refilling drinks, opening and closing out tabs as your handful of regulars trickled in and out. Each of your 6 regulars made polite small talk with the strangers, welcoming them to town and wishing them well on their travels. One of your more vocal regulars, Lloyd, earned a laugh from you when he shook their hands and pointed out, “God damn! You boys are built like brick shit houses! Coulda used those muscles this summer hauling my hay in. Damn Simpson boy tried to help but he’s about as strong as a wet noodle.”

Lloyd, as always, was the last of the regulars to settle up his tab and head home, leaving you and the 3 out of towners who were currently enthralled in a heated game of darts. You’d decided they were most definitely brothers with how they bickered. The tallest was most assuredly the youngest, the other two teaming up to tease him in only a way older siblings can. “Here you go, Boys. On the house.” You sat down another round and sat down on the nearest bar stool. “What brings yall to my little town? Don’t take this wrong, but there’s no way you three ended up here on purpose. No one ends up here on purpose.”

The middle brother laughed, “We’re working in the next town over. Wanted something a little quieter, so here we are. I’m Loa by the way. That’s Leo and Tama.” He motioned between the other two.

You spent the next 2 hours making casual small talk in between rounds of a vigorous darts tournament. You filled them in on why the bar was named The Outhouse. When your uncle bought the bar, your grandfather told him it was nothing but a shit hole. Your uncle started referring to it as The Outhouse, and the name just stuck. You’d learned the three were, in fact, brothers. While you got the sense there was more to the story, you also weren’t going to pry.

All three were notably attractive and charming in their own individual ways. But, it was Tama that kept drawing your attention. His voice, soft and warm like fresh honey. His flirty smile ignited a spark deep in your core like fireworks on the 4th of July. Simultaneously dangerous and refreshing like sugar coated sin.

An hour after the brothers had left, you had just gotten out of the shower in the makeshift mini apartment you’d added to the back of the bar. No sense in having a separate house for just you when all of your time was spent at the bar anyway. There was a soft knock on the bar door. Padding to the door, shotgun in hand, after all, a woman can never be too careful, you could see Tama standing on the other side, head down, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other reaching up to knock again.

“If you came back to kill me or rob me, you’re shit out of luck.” You could hear him laugh on the other side of the door and saw him hold both hands up, “I come in peace. I left my wallet.” Setting the shotgun down, you opened the door wide enough to allow him to come in. “I haven’t seen it, but….” you made a sweeping motion with your arm, “haven’t exactly cleaned up much yet. You’re welcome to look around though.”

Curiosity getting the better of you, “You have a slight accent…not all the time…just caught it every now and then. The other two don’t seem to have one.” Tama knelt down, reaching under a stack of chairs by the dartboard and turned, holding his wallet up. “Found it. And, good ear. I was born in Tonga. Lived there until I was 7. Leo was a baby. Loa’s mom, our aunt, came to visit and she brought us back to the states with her. Surprised our uncle, Loa’s dad, they adopted us and we’ve been here since. Pops jokes we’re the most expensive souvenirs he’s ever had. What about you?”

You shrugged, “You know the typical small town story. Dad split, mom died, uncle raised me. Took out a second mortgage on this place to send me to college…then he got sick and passed, left me the bar and now, here we are.”

Tama nodded, studying you, “Here we are.” There was a long pause, not uncomfortable really, just heavy, with the weight of new acquaintances and uncertain boundaries. “So, thanks for the hospitality.”

You just smiled and nodded back, “It’s always nice to meet new faces. You three gave me something to look at besides Lloyds cranky face.” Following Tama to the door, you added in, “Yall be sure to come back before you head out of town.”

********

It had been 6 weeks since the brothers had first come to your bar and 3 weeks since they came in to celebrate their company relocating them to the neighboring town. You tried not to seem too excited at the prospect of having them around more often but had to admit that it was nice having people your own age around to talk to. Three or four nights a week some combination of the trio could be found sitting in your bar, usually all 3, but the one constant was always Tama.

You’d learned their personalities quick. Leo, the youngest, the epitome of a gentle giant and always happy to help you change light bulbs when needed. Loa, the middle brother, had a penchant for sweets, always eager to taste test Miss Lottie’s latest baking delicacy. He was her favorite and she didn’t even try to hide it. Swatting away Tama and Leo if they tried to sample her food before Loa could. She was never one to frequent your bar outside of Sundays but after meeting the boys, she dubbed them her “unofficial nephews” though, truth be told she was more like a grandma, but no one dared remind her of her advanced age.

And then there was Tama. An enigma in his own right. One minute, quiet and sullen, just watching people…watching you. The next minute, loud and boisterous…cocky even and definitely a flirt…especially on nights he opted to drink whisky.

All three were incredibly intelligent. Leo, the tech genius, salvaged the Simpson boys computer when he dropped it heading home from school. Loa, a whiz with numbers, helped recalculate the bars finances to get you a better interest rate on your business loan. Tama could fix anything mechanical, his specialty was anything with an engine. He’d helped get Lloyd’s old pickup running again.

Tonight, when your bell chimed, you were a little shocked to just see Tama walk in. “Just you tonight?” He nodded and told you Loa was sick with a stomach bug and Leo was working on some tech crisis at work. Miss Lottie moved quicker than you’d ever seen her when she heard her sweet Loa was sick and promised to be back with some chicken noodle soup and a box of fresh snickerdoodles.

After the last of the regulars left and Miss Lottie had dropped off the soup and cookies, you laid your apron on the bar and poured each of you a shot. Whisky. The good stuff. The stuff that doesn’t sell so you kept the bottle tucked back for yourself. “So,” you started, walking around the bar and grabbing the darts from the board, “little known fact, but I play a pretty mean game of darts.” Tama chuckled, warm and deep, “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” you tossed a dart at the board, hitting the wall beside it, “I’m a little rusty, but I could’ve gone pro. Sidelined by a paper cut.” You tossed another dart and watched it ricochet off the board and stick in the floor.

“Pro huh?” He raised an eyebrow and tossed a dart, narrowly missing a bullseye.

You scoffed and tossed your ponytail over your shoulder, “Beginners luck.” Another dart left your hand, this one landing behind the jukebox. “I meant to do that. Been needing to clean back there. That’s just my reminder.”

Tama laughed now, sipping on his drink, “you’ve watched us play for the better part of 2 months, I hope you’re not challenging me.”

You just smiled and shrugged, taking a long pull from your own glass. “What makes you think I’ve been watching?”

His lips curled up in a smirk, eyes watching you fill both glasses again, “You’ve been watching.”

“Maybe. But, I ain’t the only one that’s been watching. I see you. Biding your time. Waiting for a reason to come in here alone.”

The two of you stood there, glasses in hand, waiting…watching the other. “A toast,” Tama raised his glass, “to reasons.” You clinked glasses together, swallowing the liquid down and feeling the burn as it trailed down your throat.

“So, Mr Mechanical Expert, I’ve got this noise coming from my cooler in the back…worried it’s going out…care to take a look at it?”

“Lead the way, Darlin”

Opening the door to the makeshift living space and office, you stepped back, making enough room for him to walk past you. “Welcome to my humble abode. And office. And miscellaneous storage space. Cooler is over there. Thanks again, for looking at it.” You leaned back against the wall, watching as he moved around, jiggling this piece, tapping that part, before he stood and wiped his hands on his jeans, “Good news, all the wiring back here looks brand new so I think you’re good.”

You smiled again, taking a pull from the bottle in your hand before offering it to him, “Oh…I just remembered Miss Lottie’s grandson came out a few weeks ago and fixed it. Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Tama just hummed in response and drank down the warm liquid, eyes never leaving yours. “So, we just gonna keep playing this little game?” He’d made his way across the small room, standing in front of you now, the bottle of whisky in one hand, the other hand had found its way to your hip, thumb tracing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans.

Grabbing the bottle from his hand, you took another drink and sat it down on the table beside you, other hand reaching out and resting on his chest, feeling the muscles jump at your touch, “I think we established earlier, I’m no good at games.”

He just hummed again, “Good. I don’t like games.”

His hand was on the back of your neck now, pulling you even closer, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“And after that?” Your voice came out as barely a breath.

“We’re going to find out how you look wrapped around me.”

Closing the small space between you two, his lips were on yours. Soft, tentative, testing, teasing. Then, in an instant, hungry, tongues and teeth, hands tugging and yanking at one another’s clothes. An urgency took over, fabric fell to the wayside, foreplay a drunken afterthought. In what felt like an instant, he was inside you, stretching and filling you in ways you’d forgotten were possible.

Tama turned you both, walking you backwards to the bed against the wall, falling to the mattress. Gripping the back of your thigh, he pulled it up, resting your leg on his shoulder, angling deeper. “Shit, Darlin. Look at me. Keep those eyes open. Want you to see what you do to me.” Your hands everywhere, his back, his hair, the sheets, finally resting on the head board, fingers gripping the rails until your knuckles blanched.

There was nothing sweet about this. It was hard, carnal, primal. This wasn’t making love. This was rough and raw. This was fucking. The bed creaked with each slam of his hips against you. You could hear the wood of the braces beneath the mattress fighting to not splinter each time he rutted in to you, dick kissing your cervix, marking his territory from the inside out. You could feel his hips leaving bruises on the inside of your thighs…fingertips digging in to the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs tight around him.

Your eyes were locked on his, watching the dark brown irises go black. Your hands left the headboard, one clawing at Tama’s back, the red welts a beautiful contrast on his skin. The other hand settled in his hair, fingers knotting in his curls yanking him down, teeth sinking in to his shoulder.

He flipped you, pulling you to straddle him, the new angle giving you a full view of the way his muscles flexed and tightened with every movement. Your eyes fluttered closed, teeth sinking in to your bottom lip. He had one hand on your hip, guiding you, the other shot up gripping your throat and pulling your body down against his when he flipped you again, “I said, eyes fucking open.” The way his voice growled out, words choppy, you knew he was close and you were already past the point of no return.

You wanted to keep your eyes open, tried to, but when your orgasm hit they slammed shut. Tama’s face was buried in your neck, fingers twisted in your hair when his release hit. The two of you lay there, limbs tangled, trying to catch your breath, a quiet now filling the room…comfortable even if slightly awkward. The ringing of Tama’s phone broke the silence. You busied yourself pulling a shirt and panties back on, laughing when you heard him reassure Loa that he had not, in fact, eaten any of Miss Lottie’s snickerdoodles.

Tama hung up and pulled his jeans back on, “I guess I better get the big baby his shit before Miss Lottie has my ass.” You nodded, chuckling, “If she could drive, she’d be over there babying him herself.”

“So…” He hesitated at the door, looking you over, “you ok? That got a little…”

“Heated? Yeah, I’m good. Better than I have been actually.”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss, soft, sweet, whisky still tinged on his lips. “I’ll see you later.”

All it took was one text. Five simple little words.

I got you a present.

But, it wasn’t the words that got you. Not really. It was the picture that followed. His hand. Long, thick fingers splayed out just perfect with an accompanying text attached.

You wearing this tonight.

You typed back a quick response, You play too much. Simple and on par for the flirty friendship the two of you had.

Jimmy, always playing. Always teasing. Always flirting. Always pushing boundaries without ever fully crossing them.

Then there was you. Always matching him with the teasing and flirting. Always pushing back just enough. Always rolling your eyes and reminding him he couldn’t handle you at full force and if you ever ‘unleashed on him’, he’d crack long before you would. Nevermind that you knew you were full of shit, all that mattered was he didn’t know that.

Not yet.

And, there was the gossip. People talked and made assumptions. Of course they did. Especially with the way his eyes would rake over you and he’d lick his lips every time you walked past. Every fucking time. The way his lips curled into that cocky grin at the cookout in front of his momma when you came back from taking a clean tray over to the grill and said “I hope y’all are hungry. Papa F is piling that chicken on.” Without missing a beat, that tongue snaked out and his hands rubbed together like they always do when he’s got something brewing, “I can definitely eat.” You just laughed and shook your head when his momma smacked his chest and used his full government name to scold him like only a mother can. Jim just rubbed his chest and huffed, “Damn, Ma. I ain’t even mean it like that.”

But you caught that smirk and wink when he turned his head back to you and knew he meant it exactly how you thought he did.

And now, here you were, reading back over his latest text and chewing on your bottom lip, mind wandering dangerous places.

I ain’t the one been playing.

You forced yourself to type back a simple reply. Whatever. Hurry up. I’m ready to go. 15 minutes later you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling in to your driveway with a quick honk letting you know he was there. Y’all were just headed a few streets over to his brothers for a party, but seeing him decked in all black with his hair still down and wet from his shower and a ball cap pulled down just low enough to hide his eyes had you fighting not to stare and fighting even harder not to whimper when he grinned and said, “You look good.” And, even though you still couldn’t see his eyes, you knew he was looking you over. Staring. Eye fucking like always, in a way that made you wonder, if he looked at you like that, how did he look at someone he wasn’t just flirting with and teasing? When the back of his hand brushed against the outside of your bare thigh as he shifted gears in what seemed to be an ever-shrinking car, you tried to hide the shiver that rolled down your spine, but failed miserably. You just had to hope he hadn’t caught it.

But, he did.

Of course he did.

Y’all went your separate ways once you got to his brother’s house. You got swept up with the girls, dancing and laughing and drinking. He was somewhere, probably outside flirting with someone or laughing at one of his own jokes.

2 am rolled around and your phone dinged, signifying a new message from “My PITA”, a nickname he’d earned a thousand times over.

Pain In The Ass.

Come here.

That was it. No ‘please’. Nothing telling you where in the house he was. You hated that your eyes instantly started looking around for a sign of him. You hated more when your breath caught full force like a boulder in your chest when you spotted him leaned up against the entryway of the kitchen, hat turned backward now so you could see him staring, eyes locked on you when he jerked his head and mouthed the same words he’d just text. You hated the way your legs and feet took over forcing you to abandon the conversation you were in the middle of and carried you right over to him.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You attempted to muster all the sass and annoyance you could but even in your buzzed state, you knew it sounded weak.

“You ready?” There were no teasing words, no smartass comments, no flirting. Simple. Direct. But, the way his fingers twitched just enough to brush against your leg again was enough to make your head swim. “Yeah…yeah, I’m ready. We can head out any time.”

You were hyperaware of the way his hand sat on your back, guiding you into his car. The same hand he’d sent you the picture of earlier. Y’all were turning on your street before he ever spoke, “You going out with Jeff?” The question was so insane you laughed, “Jeff? Me? Considering he asked me if my cousin was single tonight and got her number, not likely. Besides, he ain’t my type and I ain’t his.” Jimmy just nodded and ignored your question of why he’d asked.

“You crashing here tonight or going home?”

“Ion know yet.” And there he was. Jimmy. That same flirty tone was back. Voice flowing over words like velvet and a grin that could get him anything he wanted. You, like always, tried to ignore the way his words always seemed to wrap around you. “Well, you know where everything is if you wanna stay.”

He just nodded and leaned against the door frame, pushing the door open for you. “Get some rest, Pretty Girl.”

“Yes, Sir.” The words were out before you could stop them. Sir. Where the hell did that come from? A quiet gasp slipped through your lips when his ink covered arm shot out across the entryway, stopping you. “Now why'd you have to say that?” You started to smart off until you tried to push past him, usually he would've laughed and stepped to the side. Tonight, he didn't budge. You looked up, trying again to fake annoyance at him but stalled immediately at the noticeable shift. His jaw was clenched, eyes set on yours and the hand that had been shoved in his pocket was now running over his beard. “Now who’s playing?”

You hesitated, just long enough for him to notice. “You were being a bossy ass…I responded.”

“Nah,” his fingers were now fully brushing your thigh. Purposefully. Intoxicating. “See, I think you said it like that on purpose. Might as well just called me Daddy.” He was closer now, warm breath tickling your ear and neck. “Maybe, I just made up my mind about staying tonight.” You tilted your head, just enough, leaning into his words and cut your eyes over watching him watch you before you spoke, “Maybe I’d be okay with that.”

That same index finger that had you lost in thought, fantasizing about things you knew you shouldn’t, was now tilting your chin up, holding you in place. “You sure about that?” His eyes, those dark pools that always had made you chant your inner mantra of ‘it’s just Jimmy’ when he looked at you were locked on you now. Darker than you’d ever seen them. But not looking in your eyes, or even sweeping over your frame. Nah, they were focused on your mouth, watching you fight to pull a steady breath. Fight to keep your sanity.

When you finally spoke, the words were far more confident than you felt, “You gonna let me try on my new necklace?”

That was all it took. “Come here.” Same words from earlier but this time, full of heat and fire. Full of need. Desire finally ripped open for both of you to see and feel. The inner tug of war between you two finally snapped. The battle between safety and friendship versus the uncertainty of passion and want. His hand was around your throat, pulling you to him. Squeezing. Strong. Possessive. Claiming. “Got me wanting to cross lines we ain’t ever crossed.”

You smiled, hand over his on your neck, urging him to squeeze just a little tighter. “Been wanting you to shut up and cross those lines for a long time.”

“You don’t even know the things I’ve wanted to do if I ever got you alone and got my hands on you.” His mouth was on you now, not your lips, the corner of your mouth. Teasing. Testing.

“We’re alone now, and you’ve definitely got your hands on me.”

“Last chance to back out before everything changes. Before I make you mine.” His eyes were back on yours, watching…studying…waiting for the confirmation that you wanted this as much as he did.

Your free hand slid up his torso to the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to you. “I’ve been yours. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Lips finally met with the heat of years of teasing and flirting. Years of seemingly innocent touches and buried feelings. Everything poured into a simple kiss. Unspoken words exchanged in the battle of your tongues. Years of almost scandalous touches elevated with the clawing of hands at clothes, palms kneading bare flesh…finally feeling the others skin in places you’d both only ever imagined.

You didn’t even realize yall were inside now until you felt him push inside you. The soft fabric of the couch beneath you the perfect contrast to his body above you. “Don’t hold back.” Jimmy stilled, mid-thrust, to stare at you, “Careful, Pretty Girl.”

Your hands were in his hair now, pulling him closer. “Been careful too long. Make me yours.” You visibly saw the shift in his eyes, physically felt his body change.

“Over.” He had you on all fours now, back arched, breasts pushed into the cushions of the couch, face buried in a throw pillow muffling the filthy cries every time he slammed in to you, hitting that sweet spot buried deep. One hand was fisted in your hair, yanking you up, the other was gripping your throat now. Squeezing. Claiming. “So…so good” you managed to pant out, one hand gripping his forearm, the other between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit.

“Fuck yeah…waited too long.”

Your breaths were shaky. Ragged. Nothing but breathy whimpers and choked moans. Skin slapping skin and the litany of salacious words shared between you filled the room.

You were the first to come undone, falling apart beneath him, gripping him in spasms and coating him in your juices. You felt his body tense behind you, hand seized on your throat like a vice, the other hand tugging on your hair and yanking you back harder against him with a barely human “Oh shit” he was spurting in to you and seeping down your sweat slicked thighs.

Spent and sore and absolutely wrecked, you both finally crashed to the cushions beneath you. You knew you’d both be sporting some of the most beautiful marks for the next few days.