Work Text:
oat instinctively looks up from the bottle of whiskey in her hand when she hears the doors of the bar swing open.
“we’re clos–” the word falls short on the tip of her tongue when she spots a familiar black heel step in. sharp eyes meet hers, piercing right through her.
“are you sure you want to turn me away?”
the corner of her lips quirk up into a half smile. her eyes follow nene across the bar as she heads straight to the counter. she looks the same, as always, dressed exclusively in black, lips stained crimson akin to a rose. today she has her hair up in a low bun, yet not a single strand of hair is out of place, even after a whole day.
“of course not.”
nene takes a seat on one of the bar stools. the bar is almost empty, save for a couple of friends still chatting in the corner of the bar, oblivious to nene’s presence. their wine glasses are almost empty anyway; nene hopes they leave within the next minute.
oat leans across the counter, resting her chin in her palm. there is a flirtatious look in her eyes as she continues, “how could i ever turn you away?”
“keep it in your pants,” nene replies drily. “i’m not having any of your silly antics tonight. wine.”
oat presses her lips together, obediently turning around and grabbing a wine glass from the rack. wordlessly, she fills the glass with wine, the dark red liquid splashing around against the inner walls of the glass. she can feel nene’s eyes on her back as she swirls the wine around in the glass, before turning back to nene, setting the glass down before her.
“anything for you.” she slides the wine glass across the counter, stopping right before nene’s hand.
nene glances at the wine, then her gaze flits back up to oat. “what, did you drug it?” she says impassively, tone sardonic.
without waiting for a reply, she picks the wine glass up, raising it to her lips and dipping her head back.
“someone’s feisty today,” oat raises her brows, amused. “what are you, a little kitten?”
the wine glass comes slamming down against the marble counter, the shrill sound reverberating throughout the otherwise serene bar. from the corner of her eye, oat spots the pair of friends startle, both turning their heads toward the counter. there’s a small smirk toying on her lips as she turns her attention back to nene, satisfaction coursing through her body when she realises that something in nene’s eyes had shifted.
“try calling me that just one more time,” nene hisses lowly, fingers twitching around the wine glass in her hand. “and you might get this glass smashed over your head.”
the door of the bar opens, a gust of cold night breeze coming in, as the last two customers leave the bar. now they’re really alone in here.
“alright, alright, i’m sorry,” oat raises both her hands up as if she’s surrendering, but that shit-eating grin never leaves her face. “bad day at work?”
“you tell me,” nene shoots back flippantly, though she is seemingly pacified by oat’s apology and concern. “i’m sure the interns had a great day pissing me off.”
“again?” oat crosses her arms, leaning her hip against the nearest surface behind her. “i’m surprised you haven’t gotten rid of them yet.”
“i can’t,” nene bites out, annoyed. “so you better shut your mouth too, and not piss me off any further.”
she downs the rest of the wine in one go, the alcohol sliding down her throat smoothly. it leaves a burn in her throat, but it feels good. sliding the empty glass back across the counter, she glances oat, the look in her eyes silently conveying, one more.
who is oat to deny?
“want something stronger?”
nene’s gaze is cutting. “i’ll take whatever you give me.”
once again a fully filled wine glass is set down before her barely a moment later. nene immediately lifts the glass to her lips again, taking a swig of the wine.
“slow down,” oat steps towards her, wrapping her hand around nene’s and gently tugging the glass away from her lips. “you’re gonna choke.”
there’s a faint red stain smeared across the rim of the glass where nene’s lips had been. her lips are no longer red from her lipstick; they’re now stained with wine. oat’s eyes can’t help but drop down to her lips, glistening with wine and so, so enticing.
she wants to kiss the wine away, but she swallows, suppressing her arousal, instead reaching her hand out. fingers slide under nene’s jaw, holding her still, and oat runs the pad of her thumb across nene’s lips, catching all the wine stubbornly clinging on.
god, her lips are so incredibly soft.
she feels nene’s jaw tighten under her touch, but nene doesn’t push her away nor say anything, just fixes her gaze on oat. oat retracts her hand, and without sparing her thumb a single glance, holds nene’s intense gaze and brings her thumb up to her own lips. her tongue darts out to lick away that drop of wine, a smug grin slowly appearing on her lips when nene drops her gaze down for a split second.
something crackles in the air between them, something neither of them can pinpoint, but the tension sure is thick enough they could slice through it with a knife.
nene tears her eyes away from oat, looking at the half-finished wine still in her hand. suddenly, her mouth feels parched.
downing the rest of the contents in the glass at one go, nene winces at the sting in her throat, the sharp taste of the wine leaving a tangy aftertaste on her tongue. swiping the back of her hand across her lips, she shoves the glass back towards oat.
“one more.”
♡
three more glasses of wine later, nene ends up excusing herself to the restroom to wash her face, flushed from all that alcohol. but somehow, before she knows it, she finds herself backed up against the wall right next to the sink. it’s a little cramped, but that’s not really the point now, is it.
her back is flush against the wall, the ceramic tiles cool into her back, seeping into her skin, and yet she still feels like she’s burning up. oat’s hands are anchored on her waist, applying just enough pressure to keep her pressed up against the wall.
“this is what you wanted from the start, isn’t it?” oat whispers, eyes searching nene’s.
“says you,” nene bites back, but there’s no real malice in her tone, only barely concealed desire. her hands slide up oat’s shoulders, to the crook of her neck, before resting on her nape. they’re so close, barely centimeters apart, and nene can feel oat’s warm breath fanning out against her cheek.
holding oat’s gaze, her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and then she’s forcefully pulling oat in by her neck, closing the last of the distance between them.
oat lets herself get yanked down, lips crashing into nene’s. a hand comes up to rest on the side of her neck, fingers tilting her head upwards to deepen the kiss. nene pants into the kiss, a moan clawing at the back of her throat when oat tugs at her bottom lip.
the hand of her jaw shifts up till oat’s fingers are grazing the base of her bun, and in one swift motion, oat undoes her neat bun, letting her brown locks cascade past her shoulders in messy waves. she runs her fingers through nene’s hair, and a shudder racks down nene’s spine at the feeling.
when she starts to run out of air, oat pulls away, instead lowering her head to press a kiss to nene’s jaw, then two, then shifts down even more to nose at the soft underside of her jaw. nene bites back a moan when oat starts trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck, taking a second too long to register in her brain when oat starts biting at her skin.
“stop,” nene gasps out, a hand shoving at oat’s shoulder blindly. “you can’t– no marks–”
“okay, okay,” oat soothes against her neck. “sorry.”
one final kiss lands on the area oat had bitten, and then the top button of her shirt come undone, exposing her collarbone. fingers tangle through oat’s hair, nene’s warm palm steady on the back of her head as her kisses go lower. now she can leave marks.
she stops just above the lace of nene’s black bra, glancing up at nene for a brief moment. she’s met with nene’s half-lidded eyes following her every movement, something quietly desperate reflected in the shadow of her gaze.
oat leans back in once more, sucking hard on a tender spot at the top of nene’s breast, worrying the skin between her teeth. it stings, but nene can’t help but let out a soft groan, head falling backwards, knocking against the wall lightly. her fingernails scratch at oat’s scalp as she runs her hand through oat’s hair, holding her close as she feels lovebites being marked into her skin.
a hand slips underneath her shirt, oat’s touch searing across her bare skin. oat’s free hand comes up, deft fingers undoing the buttons of her shirt. she’s immaculate at multitasking, nene thinks to herself amidst her pleasure.
oat pulls back slightly, taking a moment to admire her handiwork, spots of of red and purple blooming across nene’s pale skin, before shifting down even lower to press open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, lips curving up against her body when she feels nene convulse a little with each kiss.
nene watches as oat traces a trail down her stomach, past her waist, with those soft lips, heat pooling in her core. she’s so aroused; it feels hot everywhere, and her eyes can’t focus on anything anymore.
“can you hurry up…” nene breathes out, wondering for a brief moment if it’s the alcohol talking, but ultimately shoving that thought away. she’s not a lightweight, and she really couldn’t be more sober right now. every single sensation sends sparks off under her skin.
“impatient as always, huh,” oat murmurs against her midriff, but complies, sliding her palm up nene’s thigh and under her skirt as she drops to her knees. nene’s stomach does a flip at the sight of oat, kneeling before her. fuck, she looks so good like that.
oat doesn’t bother taking nene’s skirt off, just hikes it upwards till it’s bunched up at her hips, before dipping her head down, mouthing at the tender inner side of nene’s thighs.
she slides her thumb down the flimsy fabric of nene’s underwear, already soaked and sticky from how turned on she is, pressing down on her swollen nub gently. she relishes in the heady scent of nene’s arousal, the sound of her unsteady pants, the involuntary buck of her hips at the contact.
her teeth sink into the soft flesh of nene’s inner thigh, slowly working her way up towards her core, just to tease. but apparently, nene’s had enough of her antics tonight.
“i said hurry up,” she huffs, irritated. the hand still resting on the back of oat’s head shoves her forward, right towards where nene wants her to be.
okay, okay, how impatient.
oat, secretly pleased at nene’s frustration, doesn’t push her limits. slipping her fingers past the waistband, she tugs nene’s underwear down, past her knees, head spinning a little when she sees the sticky, slick mess in between nene’s legs.
her nose nudges against nene’s clit, teasing her tongue past nene’s aching core, licking up her taste. nene bites down on her knuckles in an attempt to stifle her moans, other hand tousling oat’s hair.
“oh, fuck–” nene gasps out when she feels a finger graze past her entrance, before slowly pressing in. she doesn’t even have time to adjust to the feeling when oat pushes in a second finger almost immediately after, a throaty moan leaving her mouth as her back arches off the wall. it wouldn’t have worked so well on any other night, but she’s so wet that oat’s fingers sink into her sopping heat without resistance.
it’s almost too much when oat starts moving inside her, the drag of her fingers across her walls making her vision hazy and her head spin. her hips jolt forward on their own accord with every pump of the digits buried inside her, with every firm press of oat’s tongue over her clit.
“you’re such a good girl,” oat whispers, fingers curling deep in her. “you’re taking me so well.”
almost instantly nene feels her legs go weak; she’s always been a sucker for praise, whether she likes to admit it or not. and unfortunately, the only person that manages to praise her in a way that completely makes her melt is oat. she feigns annoyance, uttering out a faint, “shut up.”
but oat knows that she likes it. she can feel more arousal leak out of nene at her amorous words, can feel her thighs gradually closing around her head, brushing against the tips of her ears. how cute, trying so hard to stay upright and keep her legs open.
“o– oat,” nene whimpers in her drowsy daze, words slurred. every sensation registers vividly in her mind, and yet she’s unable to form a proper thought other than good, it feels good, so good. her mouth is parched and her throat feels like sandpaper, voice almost shot, probably from all the noises she’s making, but she honestly couldn’t care less. heat coils low in her belly, all her attention is focused right in between her legs.
“you like that?” oat pulls away for a brief moment to look up at nene. that damned smug smile is back on oat’s lips, and nene has half a mind to just slap that grin off her face, but as much she hates to admit, the sight of oat gazing up at her so alluringly is very much so attractive. well, it’s not like she can even lift her arm to slap oat anyway, her entire body had already gone weak at oat’s touch.
nene looks away shamefully, inhaling sharply when oat shoves her fingers in to the hilt. she bites down her lower lip to hold in her moans, squeezing her eyes shut as oat quickens her fingers. her grip on oat’s shoulder tightens, knuckles almost turning white as her nails dig into oat’s back.
“oh, don’t hold it in, baby.” oat’s voice is saccharine sweet, like sticky honey. the moment the pet name leaves oat’s mouth, nene involuntarily clenches around her fingers, cheeks burning.
“d– don’t… call me that–” she bites out, but it doesn’t sound very convincing.
“liar,” oat murmurs. nene is about to retort, but oat leans back in and wraps her lips around her sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking hard. the stimulation sends sparks flying up her spine, and a pathetic whimper escapes her throat.
she clenches at the reach of oat’s long, filling fingers, at the way her tongue swirls around nene’s swollen clit. there is a tense silence in the space, save for the indecent, wet sounds as oat eats her out, and the soft gasps and choked moans she’s letting out, echoing into the heated air of the washroom.
she throws her head back, lips parted in an audible moan when she feels oat’s lips bracket her clit sucking hard.
“n– no, close, not yet–” nene stutters, out of breath. her hips buck into oat’s mouth when she feels teeth graze against her nub, a cry piercing through the still air as she shoves the heel of her palm into oat’s crown, a knee-jerk reaction from the intense pleasure. she swears she felt a burning sensation shoot up her core, numbing her for a moment.
“sorry,” oat murmurs against her thigh, kissing her tenderly, though the fingers still thrusting into her are anything but.
she comes back up, capturing nene’s lips with hers. nene can taste herself on oat’s lips, but she can’t help but chase after oat’s kisses, gasping when oat bites down on her bottom lip. she only breaks the kiss when oat’s fingers hit that one spot in her, cursing out loud as her hips jerk forward.
“right there?” oat asks with a hint of satisfaction, voice raspy.
embarrassed, nene’s head falls forward, and she buries her face into the crook of oat’s neck to stifle her uncontrollable moans with the fabric of oat’s suit jacket. she almost cries out when oat hits that same sensitive spot once more, then twice, then again and again. tears prick at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. the heat in her belly coils tighter like a spring, and it almost hurts.
she holds on to oat, trying to keep herself from collapsing; her legs feel like jelly, about to give out at any given moment. a muffled cry tears from her lips when oat’s thumb presses down on her swollen bud, toying with it.
“wait, i– not there– i’m–” nene babbles, choking on her words. she can’t even form a coherent sentence, brain clouded with pleasure so intense she can’t think straight anymore.
“you’re gonna come?” oat’s grip on her waist tightens, digging lightly into her soft flesh. “come on, don’t hold back.”
oat’s thrusts are getting rougher, more rushed, pressing in knuckle-deep until nene is whimpering and breathless and full, sending her mind into a spiral.
“please–” she doesn’t know what she’s even begging for, the words tumbling out of her mouth uncontrollably, a hoarse, whispered plea. “please, fuck, oat, pleasepleaseplease–”
“you can let go.”
she doesn’t take long; oat buries her fingers deep into her once more, and she comes undone, clamping down around oat, hips stuttering. her eyes are screwed shut and she sinks her teeth into the crook of oat’s neck, biting down to muffle her broken sob of relief as she twitches and trembles in oat’s arms.
oat lets her ride out her high, only pulling out when she feels nene start to relax. nene flinches at the loss, letting out a small sound of surprise. she only lifts her head from oat’s neck when oat goes a little too quiet, to the sight of oat sucking those two fingers that had been in her just seconds ago clean.
“oh, my god.” nene’s cheeks burn up, flushing an even brighter pink that they already are. through her lashes she give oat a dazed once-over; her suit jacket is crumpled from when she gripped at oat’s shoulder a little too hard, the fabric stained a darker colour from her tears, and the deep imprints of nene’s teeth on her neck is apparent.
her eyes flit back up to meet oat’s. oat holds her gaze, that stupid annoying smile back on her lips once more, before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips.
when she pulls back, she takes a good look at the girl before her, and thinks to herself, fuck. nene’s eyes are unfocused, gazing at her yet seeming so out of it; her lips are parted, red and swollen from being bitten, her hair is all mused up, and her blissed-out expression does things to oat.
“god, you’re so pretty like this.”
oat can’t help but lean in again for one last searing kiss, till nene’s chest is heaving and she’s nudging at oat’s shoulder.
“okay,” oat pulls back, nosing into nene’s cheek affectionately. “sorry, baby.”
nene lets out a soft sigh, tiredly slumping into oat. oat catches her in her arms, holding her close as nene catches her breath. oat smells good, and she feels so warm, nene doesn’t really want to leave her embrace.
“you’re okay,” oat murmurs against her hair. “you did so well.”
nene barely has any time to revel in the praise, for a silent moment passes between them, then oat adds, whispering, “you’re really cute.”
a fist lands on oat’s shoulder– albeit weakly– with a light thud. “what is your fucking problem?” she breathes out.
“you enjoyed it though,” oat deadpans, amused. she really can’t help but tease the girl in her arms; maybe she’s deriving a tad too much pleasure from winding nene up.
nene groans, the sound muffled against oat’s shirt. “fuck… i’m never forgiving you for this.”