chibbins
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Summary
Victoria Javadi is driving herself crazy trying to work out if Cassie McKay wants to sleep with her. To make matters worse, their dynamic in the workplace has become... distracting.
Victoria hates that Trinity Santos found out about her crush on McKay. All she does is tease her and make her life more difficult. Except the more time Victoria spends with Santos, the more she doesn't want the teasing to stop.=-=-=-=-=-=-
On the other end of the phone, McKay hesitantly asked "Vadi...are you with fucking Santos right now?"
"Actually," Vic gasped, voice breaking. "Santos is fucking me right now."
Bookmarked by chibbins
17 Jun 2026
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Cassie was a fucking pervert. She was sick in the head, asking a stranger to fuck herself on a pillow just so Cassie could get off.
or
camgirl Victoria and pervert Cassie
Bookmarked by chibbins
17 Jun 2026
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She looks at Baran’s mouth. She could kiss her, she thinks.
‘Trinity,’ Baran says, voice low and edged with warning.
‘What?’ She looks straight at Baran, smirks a little.
‘What are you doing?’ She tilts her head, bores straight into Trinity’s eyes.
Trinity’s heart drops deliciously. Baran’s eyes glint and her voice is so honeyed and she’s looking at her like fucking that and of course Trinity is gonna fucking say something. Trinity isn’t even really flirting with her, not yet.
‘’M not doing anything,’ she mumbles. She leans a little closer.
Baran smirks. ‘Trinity.’
‘What?’ she repeats. She’s smiling. She could kiss her.
or
Baran starts fucking the nanny, and things get complicated.
Bookmarked by chibbins
30 May 2026
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Trinity Santos is three hours into a double shift, alone in the break room, when her phone buzzes with an unknown number. A stranger has sent a photo by accident, a red dress, an ornate mirror, a bare back, and is immediately, catastrophically mortified about it.
Trinity is polite. She says she deleted it. She saves the contact as 'very hot stranger 🔥'.
That's where it starts.Wrong number. Slow burn. Enemies to lovers. SMAU-adjacent.
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“You have very pretty hair,” Baran muses absently. Like she doesn’t mean anything by it. Like it’s a perfectly normal thing to say to your coworker. And it is.
If Samira didn’t have her face so close to Baran’s chest, and if her muscles weren’t tense enough to power a small town, she’d take it as it was clearly meant to be taken: normally. But Baran isn’t wearing her jacket, and her scrub top is thin, and if Samira looks—actually looks instead of averting her eyes and trying not to cringe away—she can see indents where the straps of Baran’s bra sit under the fabric.
“Thank you,” Samira says, and her voice is higher than normal. She clears her throat. Hopes that Baran doesn't notice her blush as her hands carefully comb through Samira’s hair.
Bookmarked by chibbins
25 Apr 2026