up against the wall with me

"Oh, you know I do, princess."

Aaric's voice is teasing – in response to some vaguely dirty joke she threw out that she can't even remember when he looks at her like that – and drops low at the end.

Sloane swallows drily. 

Around them, their squad chatters, creating a noisy and comfortable atmosphere. Yet Aaric's heated stare holds her captive, frozen, and the slow smirk pulling at his mouth makes a blush rise in her cheeks. That look on his face promises filthy, depraved things. Things she craves, but she's not going to give in that easily.

She knows the chase is the fun part for Aaric.

So a minute later she rises casually, remarking about going for a shower before evening sparring practice, almost skipping into the corridor. Weaving through the halls at a leisurely pace, she waits for footsteps to catch up, but she doesn't hear him coming.

Just as she's turning to look, frowning and wondering if she misread his signals, she's grabbed by the shoulders.

An involuntary squeak escapes before a hand is clapped over her mouth and she's pulled into his strong chest.

"Aren't you making this easy for me?" Aaric croons in her ear, and Sloane shivers. She is – but it's only because she's already turned on. He's been fucking teasing her all day, with glances and touches that have been anything but innocent, and with Dain busy with wingleader duties, there's been no one to keep Aaric in check.

Her patience with him has all but run out. In a way, she loves it, but she’s also on fucking edge.

Sloane has been sassing him right back most of the time, but it's hard to think of smartass things to say or how to make him have a taste of his own medicine when she's overwhelmed by him bending down close to her ear at any opportunity. And the things he's been whispering straight onto the sensitive cartilage... Well, it's a wonder she's not fucked anything up bad enough for Rhi, Bodhi or Dain to notice today.

"Fuck you," she snarls now when he lets his palm loosen, twisting in his hold but unable – and unwilling – to dislodge him.  "You've been winding me up all day!'

"But you're so easy to tease, sweetheart," Aaric laughs quietly.

"Oh, I'll show you–"

His hand covers her mouth again.

"None of that now," Aaric admonishes. "There's a group of cadets heading this way."

And then he's dragging her. She struggles mildly, just for the sake of it, but her heart isn't in it. It's beating a tattoo of anticipation and desire in her chest instead.

Indeed, there's footsteps and voices as a group rounds the corner, Aaric forcing Sloane into a small, dark room and shutting the door behind them.

"Think they saw us?" Aaric asks, but sounds amused and smug, not worried. "Not that it matters. You enjoy everyone knowing how well I'm going to fuck you, don't you?"

She can't answer, too busy processing his words – and would refuse to anyway.

Besides, he enjoys making sure people know he gets both Sloane and Dain in his bed. He’s proud and so damn happy about their relationship that she can hardly begrudge the way he mentions it very openly. 

Loves them very openly.

Dain's not much for public displays of affection, usually too concerned about people's opinions and being in Aaric and Sloane’s chain of command. But Aaric will tempt him into casual touches during the day, sometimes even filthy kisses in dark corners. 

Sloane hardly needs to be convinced.

It’s weird how they all have grown up in environments that afforded little in the way of love, affection and security, though Sloane had it in her earlier years and Dain a measure with the Sorrengails – and yet, behind closed doors, they’re very good at loving each other. She’d expected more friction than there is.

Instead, there’s warmth and teasing. Dain straightening out their uniforms in the morning, pressing an absentminded kiss to each of their foreheads in turn before leaving. Aaric cutting through the anger when Sloane’s temper flares and making Dain open up when he goes silent and broody. Sloane goading both of her goody-two-shoes partners into living a little.

Right now, Aaric twists his fingers into the braid Dain lovingly made for her this morning, pulling sharply on the strands when she doesn’t answer. His warm breath washes over her cheek in the darkness.

“Did my teasing make you speechless, sweetheart?” She rolls her eyes, even though he can’t see it, but his hips jerk forward into hers with calculated pressure, making her feel how hard he is, and she gasps. “Mhm, stop being a brat.”

Indignation rises in her throat.

“You can’t even see me!”

Aaric strokes a hand down her side, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “No, but I know you.”

She feels deliciously seen, pressed between his hard body and the wall of whichever unfortunate office is about to get desecrated by their fucking. Because she will give in. They both know that soon, she’ll fold like a house of cards. 

Aaric doesn’t let her answer, his mouth finding hers in a hard, claiming kiss. 

She’s left panting as he works his way down her throat, kissing and nipping, spreading blooms of pleasure over the sensitive skin. 

“Aaric!”

Sloane bucks her hips, twisting in his grasp, not sure if she’s still playing their little game of escaping, or if she’s begging for more with each roll of her body.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he croons soothingly. “I’ll take care of you. You’re so worked up, just from a few comments and innocent touches. I bet you’re wet, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, unbuttoning her pants deftly with one hand, fingers dipping below her waistband to search out the throbbing heat between her legs.

At the first touch, Sloane throws her head back against the wall and moans.

Then she realizes she has no clue how much sound carries through the door to the corridor. Aaric must consider the same, because his free hand finds hers, lifts it to her own mouth.

“Cover those sweet sounds,” he murmurs, and his fingers graze over her clit, making her groan into her own skin, though it’s muffled. “Good girl. You know I love hearing them, and wouldn’t mind an audience, truly, but doing this outside our bedroom is definitely against the rules.”

Then he focuses on shimmying her pants down her hips to drop to her ankles. Sloane’s other hand seeks out his strong shoulder, traces along his arm, feels the muscles of his bicep flex under his shirt.

Long, talented fingers return to her core, and she sighs in relief and pleasure.

“Look at you, able to take edging from Dain when you’re all trussed up in our bed, yet chasing my fingers like a little slut when you're not under his command.” Aaric’s voice is rough and low. There’s no jealousy in it, only desire and a certain degree of amusement. 

Sloane tosses her head, glaring at him ineffectively in the dark, and Aaric pins her hips against the wall with his body and his hand while the other glides mercilessly through her folds, spreading her wetness and circling her clit lightly.

Arousal curls along her spine and makes her stomach tense, winding tighter and tighter. She’s so turned on she could come right now, if only he gave her a little pressure.

He doesn’t.

She whimpers in disappointment when he pulls away, and Aaric laughs softly.

“So eager.”

“Please, Aaric,” she whispers, lifting her palm enough to get the words out. It feels like a relief, the surrender. She barely made him work for it, to be honest, but relaxing into his hands and giving up control feels like sinking into a warm bath. “Let me come.”

Aaric hums, a quiet sound of contentment at her pleading. “Not yet. You’ll come on my cock, won’t you?”

If he gets around to actually putting it – or anything – inside her, she absolutely will. Sloane nods furiously, thinks he can feel the movement in her whole body, and he chuckles as he kisses her neck again, before spinning her around.

“One hand on the wall, keep the other on your mouth,” he directs, and she spreads her legs as much as the pants around her ankles allow, desperate for him. “And if you’re loud enough to make someone come in here and interrupt me while I’m fucking you, I’ll spank your ass red in punishment later.” His hand grazes over her backside in warning, his voice stern. “Or better yet, I’ll make Dain do it.”

That’s a threat and a half. 

Aaric can be rough, but Dain is meticulous about it in a way he isn’t.

Sloane fists her hand, presses it tightly to her lips as she hears Aaric open his belt, the rustle of fabric soothing her – she’ll have relief from his incessant teasing soon. It’s been a long day of feeling turned on at regular intervals.

Still, she whines slightly as the head of his hard, hot cock nudges against her.

“Be quiet now,” Aaric admonishes, and coats himself in her wetness before pushing in, slow and careful. She yields to him easily, and wishes he’d just enter her roughly, give her what she craves. “Fuck, you’re soaked, and so tight for me.”

His honest, raw praise makes her clench harder around him. It won’t take much, perhaps a few harsh thrusts, and she thinks he’ll give them to her. He must be wound up from their little game as well.

She moans quietly into her fist, and he groans as an echo when his hips snap into hers. It’s a blissful feeling, stretched open around Aaric, his warm body pressed into her back. 

“You like that, huh?” Aaric murmurs. “Like being teased all day until you’re wet enough to take both me and Dain in your little hole if we tried, and then fucked in a random room where anyone could find us?”

It’s deliciously filthy to imagine someone coming to check on them and finding her like this, pressed up against the wall, pants down, Aaric driving into her. She whimpers into her fist, and he doesn’t cease talking.

“I don’t think I’d stop, if someone walked in. I’d just continue taking you, make you stammer out apologies with my cock buried inside you. Would you like that?” He must feel the way she’s gripping him like a vice, so close from the words alone. “Did I mention the door isn’t locked?”

Indeed, she didn’t hear him lock it. The threat of being caught is thrilling, and Aaric knows she loves it.

Fuck.

She’s gonna come soon, can’t stop the tidal wave rising in her body, can’t stop pushing her hips back into Aaric’s thrusts for more.

The door slams open.

For a second, fear twists down her spine, and Aaric’s next thrust forces a broken moan out of her as she turns her head towards the light spilling in, panic rising in her throat just as the pleasure is coiling tight inside her.

“You better not be in my wing, cadets, or you’ll be running drills ‘til fucking Midwinter–”

The voice is familiar, stern and angry. 

Dain’s wingleader voice, but also so close to what he uses in bed. He’s silhouetted against the light, large hands gripping each side of the doorframe, his massive body filling up the space so there’s no escape.

The way he’s backlit makes his expression hard to see, but he must see them perfectly. 

“You fucking menaces,” he snarls, low and dangerous, and even like this, Sloane can see the way his mouth tightens, imagines his eyes flashing in that way they do when he’s displeased. He takes a single, threatening step forwards just as Aaric drives into her again.

Sloane shatters.

The world splinters apart into fragments of pleasure, and her knees go weak, Aaric pressing forward to keep her upright against the wall as she spasms around him.

A door slams, and when she opens her eyes, blinking against the waves of bliss, they’re enveloped in darkness again.

“Should have known it would be the two of you,” Dain mutters, as if to himself, and then a small mage light flares to life. Her gaze finds his, though his features are blurry and slowly come into focus. Dain reaches a hand to stroke over her cheekbone. “Came the second you saw me, huh? What a sweet welcome.”

Sloane thinks she’s blushing, but Aaric is still fucking her, and she can’t think.

“But your behaviour otherwise hasn’t been sweet, has it?” Dain’s voice goes stern again, and his next command to Aaric is harsh. “Stop.”

Immediately, Aaric’s thrusts cease, and when she twists her head further, she sees Dain has a grip on the back of Aaric’s neck, threatening and firm.

Shit.

“When I get a report from cadets in my wing that they saw two people fornicating in rooms they have no business being in, that usually warrants intervention.” 

Dain’s just a touch angry still, his words harsh. His other hand sneaks to grasp Sloane’s chin firmly, and she squirms where she’s pinned between Aaric’s cock and the wall. Wonders what he’s reading from her, if anything.

There’s a long-suffering sigh from Dain. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Sloane’s incapable of forming words.

“It was my fault,” Aaric admits. There’s an edge of guilt around his words – not for teasing or fucking Sloane like this, semi-public, but for Dain being put in a conflicting position between his authority and his partners. “I teased her.”

“She went along with it.” Dain’s not about to let her off easy, which is fair. They’re both equally culpable. “But sweet of you, trying to protect her, Cam.”

In the corner of her eye, she sees that Dain has gentled his grip on Aaric’s neck, petting the short strands of hair there.

She relaxes at the sight. Her heart is still hammering with the terror and subsequent arousal of being caught – by Dain. Her orgasm was vicious and sharp, and her core is still clenching periodically, but everything will be alright. Sloane is never in danger with the two of them around.

Dain sighs, lets go of her jaw to pinch the root of his nose in frustration.

“I’m not going to report this.” His tone is final. “But that means accepting my punishment, not what the Codex might state.”

His punishment – which will eventually be their pleasure as well. Sloane swallows thickly, trembles at the thought. She’s never understood how she can want and crave their discipline, their roughness and especially Dain’s perfectly measured mix of pain along with her pleasure, and yet dread it at the same time. Anticipation and apprehension swirl in her gut.

“Yes, Sir,” Aaric bites out, less contrite now, more cheeky, and she winces for his sake. Indeed, a second later, there’s a faint moan from him and a slapping sound that means Dain has tapped his cheek slightly in rebuke. “Sorry, I meant thank you.”

“You better have,” Dain murmurs, insidiously soft. “You know I hate being torn between my duties and my loyalty to the two of you. Cam. Sloane.” Their names in his mouth are careful, weighted. Like they’re something precious. “Plan your shenanigans better, so this doesn’t happen. Or let me know in advance, so I can cover you.”

“We will,” Sloane whispers, finally feeling collected enough. “Don’t want to put you in a tough spot. I’m sorry.”

The last words are always hard to force out, but she means them. Indeed, Dain’s fingers on her jaw gentle, trailing down to cup her neck in a possessive, soft hold.

“See that you do, Sloane. But I’d best give the two of you a firm reminder of what happens if you do this again. Don’t you think?” It’s a trick question, where a yes will just make him punish them harder, and a no will do the same. Wisely, both Aaric and Sloane keep their mouths shut. “If I thought you both could be quiet through the spanking I’m going to give you later, I’d make you bend over against that wall right here, side-by-side, and take it.”

Sloane gasps at the image, turning her flaming face to rest her forehead against the wall, feels Aaric twitch inside her as he groans. 

Dain’s fingers must move to Aaric’s mouth, dip in, because there’s the unmistakable sound of Aaric sucking on them. “But you both are too mouthy, too loud for that. I’ll do it tonight. Make sure you can’t sit without remembering tomorrow. But how should I punish you now?"

She can almost feel his gaze appraising them.

“So our sweet girl came once on your cock,” Dain states to Aaric, likely having plucked that fact from Sloane’s head. “And you’ve not come yet, but you’re fucking close. Pull out, Cam.”

Reluctantly, Aaric shifts his hips away, and Sloane whimpers as he slips out with a wet sound. Dain’s hand leaves her throat.

“No, stay there,” Dain instructs calmly when Aaric goes to move further. “Put your hands on the wall on either side of Sloane.”

There’s the sound of Dain digging around in his pockets, and a plop of a bottle opening. Lubricant. Aaric groans then, and she knows Dain must be circling his hole with slick fingers.

“So loose for me still,” Dain muses quietly. Indeed, he’d fucked Aaric last night while Sloane watched, touching herself. “I’m going to take you, Cam, while you fuck into Sloane. And I’ll set the pace. You won’t be coming until I give permission. And you, Sloane – you won’t come at all.”

“No,” she protests, just a quiet sound.

“Yes,” Dain counters. “You already had one. This is a punishment, after all.”

She closes her eyes in acceptance, though he can’t see.

Instead, she stands there with Aaric plastered to her back, her core empty and dripping, feeling every hitch of his hips and every groan as Dain fingers him open efficiently. Aaric’s head falls to rest on her shoulder, his hot breath warming her through her shirt.

“Be good for me now,” Dain cautions. “Get inside her.”

It’s torture, Aaric adjusting himself and angling inside her again, when she knows she won’t be allowed to come. Knows she’ll have to fight the urge. A second later, Aaric’s teeth clamp onto her shoulder to muffle his sounds as Dain presses into him, forcing Aaric even tighter against Sloane. One of Dain’s hands sneaks around to grab her hip, the other is probably on Aaric’s. 

“There you go,” he praises Aaric. “Taking me so well. Now be silent.” 

His first thrust into Aaric – and subsequently of Aaric into her – is a slow roll of their hips. All three of them pressed together like this, Dain controlling their movements. Sloane tries desperately to control her noises as Dain sets a slow, tortuous pace.

Aaric is whimpering into her neck now. Dain must be nailing that sweet spot within mercilessly, to make him unravel so quickly.

Then again, just the situation, the thrill of Dain’s dominance and them fucking in semi-public like this is enough for Sloane to unravel.

“So close again, aren’t you?” Dain croons to Aaric. “Her wet heat, my hard cock – so deliciously caught between us, darling. You’re going nowhere, and you won’t come yet.”

That’s punctuated by a harsher thrust.

“Please,” Aaric gasps into her shirt.

“No.”

Sloane whines quietly as Dain continues, her own body slowly tightening again, the first hints of a rising heat coiling in her stomach. She bites her fist, hoping the pain will stem it for the time being. She wants to be good. Wants to do as Dain says, see the proud smile on his face afterwards.

“I can’t, Dain– Wingleader, please–” Aaric sounds desperate and breathless, the words tumbling out in a torrent, and she can’t focus on him, on the way he’s caging her in and every one of Dain’s thrusts makes him push deep into her. Instead, she attempts to concentrate on breathing, on being quiet, but it doesn't help. Fuck, it’s too good.

“Not yet.” Dain’s pace is still slow, but his voice is rougher, more affected. 

Aaric babbles quiet pleas, and Sloane bits her lip, unable to resist canting her hips back into the thrusts. It’s thrilling to be almost ignored like this, Dain using her as a tool to punish Aaric. Only the firm grip on her hip, those large fingers stroking slightly over her bare skin at times, lets her know she’s not forgotten.

Only when Aaric’s pleas turn into something resembling sobs and Sloane’s keening quietly into her fist at each snap of their hips, does Dain relent.

“Come for me,” he demands, and Aaric does. She feels the way his body contorts over her, his back arching, lifting away from hers, and his face pressing harder into her shoulder. His sounds are a crossover between relief and bliss.

Dain doesn’t stop.

As Aaric twitches inside her, warmth filling her, Dain fucks them both through Aaric’s orgasm.

Soon enough, Aaric is almost sobbing for another reason. 

“Oversensitive, aren’t you,” Dain mocks gently. “But this is punishment, Cam, so you’ll take it. You’ll let me use you, use her through you.”

Dain’s palm wedges between Sloane’s shoulder and Aaric’s face, clearly covering his mouth. 

“There you go, now you can scream for me without revealing us.” Dain pats her hip, and she hums in acknowledgement that she’s listening. “Don’t you dare come, sweet girl.”

And then he fucks them mercilessly.

His pace is harsh, punishing and hard, the sound of his hips slapping into Aaric’s and Aaric’s into hers the loudest sound in the room. Aaric wails into Dain’s palm, muffled, and Sloane is beyond sound, fighting the orgasm that is trying to rise in her body, panting. 

There’s not enough air, and at the same time all too much. Aaric is mindless behind her, his cock inside her softer but still hard enough to feel too damn good. There’s no relief from Dain as he chases his own pleasure.

“I c-can’t–” Sloane stutters. She wants to scream, wants to come, wants to obey. She wants all three and they’re not compatible and she feels like she’s about to fall apart.

“You can.” Dain’s voice is choked, thick with pleasure, and yet so commanding. 

The hand on her hip rises to grip her throat again, just shy of too tight, silencing her with the implied threat. It almost pushes her over the edge, and she clings to her control with teeth and nails. It’s borderline painful, holding the pleasure back. Their sounds of their breaths mingle in the small room – Dain’s harsh breathing, her gasps, Aaric’s hitching, broken sounds. 

Just when she thinks she can’t take a second more, insidious tendrils of pleasure creeping down her thighs and up her spine, Dain groans and his grip on her tightens before it relaxes. Aaric hums behind her, pleased.

Sloane slumps in relief as their movement stills, fighting for breath, her heart hammering a staccato beat in her chest. It’s an indescribable mix of relief – for doing exactly what Dain asked her to – and disappointment – for the high she was building up towards, now lost to her.

“So good for me,” Dain murmurs, voice rough, and the hand around her throat moves to stroke her face instead. He must be petting Aaric too, because Sloane feels another pleased hum into her shoulder. For a moment, it’s like they’re suspended in time, all connected and pressed together tightly into one entity.

Then Dain pulls away slowly, and it shifts Aaric out of her too, which makes her aware of the way her core is throbbing, but also of the wetness slipping down her thighs. Aaric must be similarly messy with Dain’s come. Lifting his head off Sloane’s shoulder, Aaric presses a gentle kiss against her sweaty neck, his hands leaving the wall to stroke her upper arms comfortingly.

“Got a bit more than we were angling for, didn’t we?” He murmurs, amused, and Sloane huffs a responding laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart, that you weren’t allowed another orgasm. You really deserve it after my antics today.”

“We can reward her later,” Dain comments, and Aaric turns himself and Sloane around, so she’s suddenly between them, Aaric leaning against the wall behind him like his knees are weak and he needs the support. “After.”

Sloane shivers at the implied threat, and goes easily into Dain’s arms when he opens them, snuggling into the fabric of his uniform. It’s all askew now, and she twines her hands together at the small of his back.

“You did so well, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, stroking over what remains of her braid, detangling messy locks. “How do you feel?”

“Frustrated,” she sighs, “but otherwise good.”

“Mhm, that’s to be expected,” Dain agrees. “You kept quiet, took it like a good girl. We’ll reward you later. Until then you’ll just have to remember what’s coming while his come drips out of you.”

Sloane nods, and Dain reaches out to Aaric behind her.

“Cam?” There’s a steady, calm request in Dain’s tone. They didn’t much worry about checking in during the sex, but Sloane knows that Dain had his hand on their faces at times, just to subtly confirm – but after, he’s always careful to debrief.

“Going to be a bit sore.” But there’s an unmistakable grin in Aaric’s tone as he wraps his arms around both Dain and Sloane in a hug, kissing her temple and then Dain’s mouth over her shoulder.

“Oh, I’ll make you sorer yet,” Dain promises quietly.

“You?” she asks, and Dain sighs.

“I enjoyed it,” he says, honest and even. “But I don’t particularly enjoy it when I’m forced to deal with you guys from a position of authority.”

Sloane nods against his chest. “But you did tell us it was you, not our Wingleader. You know you weren’t abusing your position, and we’d have zero trouble saying no.”

“I know. Still…” Dain trails off. “You know what, no point dwelling on it.” His fingers are soft as they trail over her, his voice going gentle. “Let’s get dressed and get into our own bed. We can talk more there. Fuck, I love the two of you.”

They echo his sentiment, and in the midst of elbowing each other accidentally and hunting for Aaric’s belt which has ended up on the floor, they exchange kisses and quiet words. Sloane loves the way her body throbs, still eager for more, loves the slight strain of ignoring her own pleasure at their orders. 

With Dain in the lead, there’s no more getting in trouble on the way to their room, so they tumble inside, undressing and piling into the bed. Sloane finds herself in a tangle of limbs, stroking Aaric’s arm and resting her head on Dain’s relic. For the moment, there’s only soothing touches, and while she knows that later they’ll talk more, and fuck more, she closes her eyes for a short nap, lulled by their heartbeats and warmth.