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waverly earp, life ruiner

Chapter Text

Waverly Earp has been ruining Nicole's life since the day Nicole first laid eyes on her.

From the days of their early friendship, where Waverly would flaunt her perfect set of abs in that Shorty's shirt and Nicole would have to settle for admiring from a distance because of the worthless man-child and his gorilla arms possessively draped around Waverly's shoulders, to the present day, where Nicole gets to wake up most mornings to the sight of Waverly's beautiful face on the pillow next to her and wonder when her life became so fortuitous that she earned the right to call such an extraordinary woman hers.

Waverly has been wrecking Nicole in every way imaginable for as long as she can remember, and today is no different.

"Morning, baby!"

Waverly announces her arrival at the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department chirpily, a heavily pregnant Wynonna trudging along behind her mumbling something incoherent about coffee and revenants. Nicole looks up immediately when she hears Waverly - the youngest Earp insisted on spending last night at the homestead alone for some sisterly bonding and though fourteen hours apart is nothing, Nicole found herself missing Waverly terribly - and a grin spreads across her face. Waverly pretty much bounces across the Sheriff's office, greeting Nicole with a lingering kiss, before she pulls back and looks into Nicole's eyes lovingly, like she has missed Nicole just as much as Nicole has missed her.

Waverly's face is the picture of innocence, apparently simply happy to see her girlfriend again after a lonely night apart, and Nicole has no idea what is coming for her. Which is why just seconds later, when Waverly leans in once more until their cheeks are touching so that she can whisper into Nicole's ear, the stream of filth that leaves her mouth hits Nicole like a punch to the gut.

An incredibly arousing punch to the gut.

"When we get home tonight, I'm going to ride your face so hard that you forget your own name."

Waverly prances off after Wynonna and disappears into the Black Badge Division Office, glancing over her shoulder briefly to appreciate the way that Nicole, whose brain is barely capable of processing the fact that those words just left Waverly's lips, gapes after her, and then blows Nicole a kiss as she leaves her to continue her day.

As if it is even possible for Nicole to continue with her day after what Waverly has just promised her for later.

Waverly Earp - queen of ruining both Nicole's life and her panties - has just guaranteed that Nicole's mind won't be concentrating on anything work-related. Indirectly, Waverly is probably responsible for any and all crime that takes place in Purgatory today because the way that Nicole is now incapable of processing anything other than lewd imaginings of Waverly's shapely thighs planting themselves on either side of her head means that Nicole is sure as hell not going to be able to apprehend any criminals or file the relevant paperwork.

Nicole thinks back to the Waverly that she first met in Shorty's bar, the Waverly that had been full of sweetness and smiles and so easy to fluster with a few lines intended to disarm and a couple of flashes of Nicole's own teeth. She thinks of the journey that they've been on together, a journey of self-discovery for Waverly and of career highs and lows for Nicole and of both of them falling ever so desperately in love with each other with each passing moment.

And she thinks of the now that this journey has brought them to -  where it is sweet, innocent Waverly who is flustering Nicole and leaving her sitting in a pool of her own arousal in her place of work.

That isn't to say that Nicole isn't a fan of this new side of Waverly that has started revealing itself over the last few weeks. Nicole has always been a fan of confident women who know what they want and Waverly is proving time and time again that she is both of those things, professionally, socially, and sexually.

Particularly in the bedroom. Nicole has no complaints in that department. Waverly is as eager to explore new things as she is willing to tell Nicole exactly what those things will entail, and while Nicole loves very little more than for Waverly to tell her in very explicit detail exactly what she'd like them to do, she'd really rather that those kind of discussions stayed in the privacy of their own bedroom.

Because the alternative leads to predicaments like Nicole's current situation, where she finds herself with six and a half hours until she gets off work and only one thing on her mind.

"Deputy Haught!"

Nicole isn't sure how long she's been completely spaced out for (long enough for the screen of her computer to have gone into standby mode), and it is with great shame that she snaps out of her definitely not safe for work thoughts to find Deputy Marshal Dolls standing in the door that leads into the Black Badge Division.

She doesn't know how long he's been standing there but the look of amusement that crosses his lips indicate that it has been long enough. Nicole can only hope that Dolls' supernatural abilities don't extend to the power of mind-reading because if they do, she doesn't think she can ever show her face in this police department ever again.

"Dolls," says Nicole, clearing her throat and pretending that she hasn't just been caught daydreaming on the clock. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if there have been any reports of suspicious activity taking place north-east of Purgatory within the last five days or so," he asks, returning to full professionalism. "Specifically around a ranch belonging to a Mr Lance Harbottle."

"I can run a search for you right away," Nicole answers brightly, tapping a few random keys on her computer keyboard to give the impression of working while she waits for the monitor to blink back to life.

"Excellent. I hope I'm not taking your mind away from anything important."

It's the way that Dolls looks at her, with that slight trace of something in his eyes, that tells Nicole that he knows exactly how little work she was actually getting done before his interruption.

"Not at all," Nicole answers, hoping desperately that the lighting in the office is poor enough to hide the blush rising to her cheeks, though she suspects that Dolls knows enough already, even without her body betraying her in such a way. "I'm sure Nedley can spare me for long enough to do this."

Due to her wandering mind, it takes a little longer than it should, but now that she has a slightly less mundane task than updating the online catalogue of arrest reports to match the paper copies, Nicole finds it a little easier to focus. She eventually sends a bunch of documents off to the creaky old printer in the corner, relishing in the way that she can finally get up from her stuffy desk and stretch her legs while she waits for it all to print.

Documents in hand, Nicole knocks twice on the door to the Black Badge office and waits for a response.


When Nicole opens the door, what she finds inside is much what she expected. Jeremy and Dolls are hunched over a computer, Wynonna is on her back on the couch in the corner, apparently testing how many donuts she can stack on top of each other on her protruding belly, and Waverly...

Waverly is just being Waverly, perched delicately on the edge of a table with an innocuous file in her hand, but the way that her legs are crossed at the thigh hitches her skirt up higher than usual and there's just so much goddamn skin on show that Nicole is certain that her eyes must be bulging out of her skull.

All the progress she's made in the last forty-five minutes to regain her concentration and rid her mind of dirty thoughts disintegrates in the space of about half a second at the sight of her girlfriend.

Waverly, on the other hand, seems completely unaffected when she notices Nicole standing in the doorway, almost as if she has forgotten her earlier words. (Nicole knows that she hasn't - Waverly never forgets anything, least of all an idea that she's been plotting.)

"Thanks baby!" Waverly says cheerfully, jumping down from where she is perched on the edge of a table and crossing the room to collect the paperwork, rewarding Nicole with a kiss to the cheek. "Always so helpful!"

"You know me," says Nicole, keeping her eyes firmly trained on Waverly's face and not on the expanse of toned stomach on show, nor the legs that shoot out of Waverly's impossibly tiny skirt. "I'm willing to do anything I can to help the Black Badge Division!"

"Anything, huh?" Waverly asks, lowering her voice seductively and reaching up with one hand to straighten the collar of Nicole's uniform shirt, not-so-accidentally letting the back of her fingers brush against the skin of Nicole's neck as she does so. "I can think of one or two other things you can do..."

Nicole is about half a second away from throwing Waverly down on the floor of the Sheriff's Department and having her way with her right then and there, irrespective of their audience, and so she is quite grateful when Wynonna interrupts Waverly's attempts at seduction with a dramatic groan from across the room.

"Okay, we get it," Wynonna says, wrinkling her face up in disgust, just as Waverly seems to remember their surroundings and chooses to put some distance between herself and Nicole. "You guys screw. Message received, loud and clear." Wynonna grimaces once more, then adds, her voice lower than before, "A little too loud and clear, if you ask me."

Nicole retreats from the Black Badge office as fast as she can, closing the door behind her in the hope that having her girlfriend out of sight will also banish her from Nicole's mind, but not before Waverly can shoot her one final sly wink.

Nedley notices that something is the matter just after lunch. It is not the lack of productivity that catches his attention, but the way that Nicole gets up from her seat every ten to fifteen minutes to pace around the office, half because she is hoping that it will alleviate some of the pressure between her thighs and half because she's kind of hoping that the door to the Black Badge office might open and she can catch a glimpse of Waverly in the hope that she is also struggling to go about her day.

"Deputy Haught!" Nedley calls out, taking Nicole by surprise because she had been almost certain that he was taking his post-lunch nap at his desk in his office. "Is there a problem?"

"No sir!" Nicole replies obediently, sparing one final glance at the door beyond which lies the object of her thoughts, before she hurries back to her desk. "Not at all. I'll get right back to work."

"You seem restless," Nedley persists. "Is something the matter?"

Nicole hesitates, knowing that she absolutely cannot tell Nedley the truth - admitting to her boss that she is unable to concentrate because she's unbelievably turned on by a woman in the room next door is a) mortifying, b) a way to get fired, and c) a way to get the Black Badge Division removed from the Sheriff's Department entirely.

"Just woman stuff, sir," Nicole lies, deciding that it is better to invent an excuse than to pretend that everything is normal. Besides, Nedley is progressive enough as a boss to at least be understanding. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Right," Nedley nods curtly. His cheeks pinken slightly in embarrassment but Nicole knows that he won't bring it up again for the rest of the day. "Of course. Well if you need anything ... if you need to leave early, or..."

"No," Nicole interrupts, saving them both the embarrassment of letting him complete the sentence.

She does consider the offer though, much to her own embarrassment. She's always been a model employee - in fact, the last time she took a sick day was in second grade when she was actually incapable of moving beyond her bed without vomiting - but she's ashamed to say that Nedley's offer of letting her leave work early, no matter how deceitful her reasoning, is incredibly tempting.

But Nicole is, and always has been, determined. She isn't going to start giving up now just because of a girl.

(Even if Waverly is so much more than just a girl.)

Three forty-five.

Nicole drags her eyes away from the clock that hangs upon the wall, where the time reads exactly twenty seconds later than the last time she checked it. Time seems to be dragging impossibly slowly this afternoon.

The Black Badge Division office has been empty for a while, the entire squad having left to chase up a lead about an hour ago. Nicole doesn't know whether she feels better or worse now that Waverly is no longer only a single closed door away from her. On one hand, the distance means there's less temptation, and Nicole is pretty certain that she's thought about Waverly in slightly fewer compromising positions since Waverly blew her a kiss from across the room as she made her way out of the building behind the rest of her team, but it's also difficult knowing that Waverly is out there passing the time in much more exciting ways than the stack of paperwork Nicole has been slowly ploughing through this afternoon.

Three forty-six.

It feels like an hour since she last checked the clock but it's been less than a minute. Nicole is half-convinced that Black Badge must be out chasing another demon with the powers to bend time, this one warping each minute to last an eternity.

Nicole startles in her chair as her cell phone vibrates against the desk and she lunges for it instantly, welcoming the distraction. That is, until she sees the message lit up on the screen, the single sentence sending a shiver down her spine and causing her to feel light-headed.

Waverly Earp
Did I forget to tell you that I'm not wearing any underwear today?

Nicole thinks she could probably pass out. Except no, that would be far too easy. Of course she's going to have to face this added torture with full consciousness. She reads the words again, and then again, and then once more because she isn't entirely certain that her delirious mind hasn't invented the message entirely but nope, it's still there. Waverly actually took a moment out from hunting revenants to send those words, probably knowing exactly what they would do to Nicole.

Nicole Haught
Baby I'm at work...

Waverly doesn't reply. That's all part of her game; giving Nicole just enough to torment the living hell out of her and then leaving her to simmer in her own arousal.

Three forty-eight.

Oh why can't Nicole's goddamn shift just end already?

Waverly arrives back at the station with Jeremy at just after four thirty but while Jeremy disappears back into the Black Badge office with nothing more than a polite wave in Nicole's direction, Waverly approaches Nicole's workstation and hoists herself up onto the edge of Nicole's desk. Her skirt rides up high and with the information from Waverly's most recent text at the forefront of Nicole's mind, it takes every ounce of willpower that she can muster to avoid staring at Waverly's legs and wondering what might be waiting for her beyond that tantalising hemline.

"Hey, sweetie," Waverly says cheerily. "How has your day been?"

Waverly asks her question innocently, as if she doesn't know exactly how torturous every last second of Nicole's day has been. But two can play at this game.

"Oh, you know," Nicole shrugs indifferently, gesturing to the stack of paperwork next to where Waverly is perched. "Same old. Loads of paperwork."

Waverly glances down at the paperwork, flicking through the top two or three sheets with her fingertips before deciding that it isn't particularly interesting and returning her attention to Nicole. There's just the barest hint of mischief in her eyes and Nicole swallows thickly.

"Oh," says Waverly, acting disinterested though the expression on her face suggests that she knows exactly what she's doing and what it will do to Nicole, "well I guess I'd better leave you to it then."

Waverly slides off the desk innocuously and makes to follow Jeremy into the next room without so much as glancing back at Nicole. Nicole tries to will herself to let Waverly go - there's only twenty five minutes left until the end of her shift, for god's sake, which is minimal compared to the torture she's endured thus far today - but she can't, and calls after Waverly when the other girl's hand is reaching out for the handle to the door leading to the Black Badge office.

"Waverly," Nicole's voice comes out as barely more than a rasp and she would be embarrassed at how obvious her arousal is if she wasn't so desperate. Waverly turns, eyebrows raised and eyes wide expectantly, and Nicole has to fumble for something to say without revealing her distress. Naturally, she fails. "Your text. You can't send stuff like that while I'm at work."

"Why not?" asks Waverly, feigning innocence.

"You know why not."

"Nope!" Waverly says, her voice bright and oh-so-infuriating. "You'll have to tell me."

Nicole closes her eyes momentarily, letting out a low groan to dispel some of her frustration. When she opens them again, she glances around the office to check that nobody is close enough to eavesdrop, then answers, her voice husky, "Because I've been in agony all day."

A slow grin spreads across Waverly's face in triumph as she finally gets confirmation of what she wants to hear, proof that Nicole has been in a state of anguish since Waverly's promise this morning.

Turning her back on the Black Badge office, Waverly strides towards Nicole with a little too much swing in her hips (Nicole can't help but glance down to watch them move and is once again reminded of the fact that Waverly is bare beneath her skirt) until she reaches Nicole's desk.

"What time do you get off?"

Waverly places emphasis on the last two words and the double entendre is what does it for Nicole. It's four thirty-eight and Nicole only has another twenty-two minutes of her shift to go but it is twenty-two minutes too long. She looks around the office - Nedley has already gone home and his office door is shut, and the only other people around are a couple of Nicole's colleagues, thankfully some of the more competent ones, and she's fairly confident that Purgatory is not going to tumble into a deep crime-filled spiral just because she's leaving work twenty minutes early. Besides, one of the other officers owes Nicole a favour from a couple of weeks ago anyway.

"Jackson?" Nicole calls out, getting his attention. Gesturing to the door and hoping that he doesn't make the connection between Nicole's request and the fact that Waverly is stood beside her desk, she asks, "Do you mind if I knock off early?"

"Not at all, Haught. You have a good evening."

He says it completely innocently but Waverly lets out a little snigger from beside Nicole, muttering so that only Nicole can hear, "Oh, I'll make sure of that."

Chapter Text

"What the hell, Waverly?"

They're barely out of the police station when Nicole finally confronts Waverly about her behaviour today. She starts leading Waverly by the hand as fast as she can without actually breaking into a jog in the direction of her place, having already decided that the five minute walk is much more preferable than allowing Waverly to torture her for the entire journey back to the homestead.

"You didn't like it?" pouts Waverly, disappointment flashing across her eyes.

"I think I liked it too much," admits Nicole. She glances down at Waverly, who is smirking triumphantly, and asks, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I believe I gave you a pretty good suggestion this morning," Waverly quips back, and the memory is enough to cause another groan to spill from Nicole's throat.

Jesus Christ, if Nicole is this wound up now, what is she going to be like when they actually make it back to hers?

"I'm about two seconds away from dragging you into the nearest alley and having my way with you," Nicole tells Waverly, her voice low. "And the only reason I won't is because I'm half-convinced you'd get a huge kick out of me doing that."

Waverly makes a little noise that neither confirms nor denies Nicole's speculation, then her hand tightens in Nicole's as she pulls Nicole to a standstill and presses their fronts flush against each other, regardless of the fact that they are on the sidewalk on one of Purgatory's main streets, where anybody could see them.

"Baby, there's one little problem with that idea," Waverly teases, her arms going around Nicole's waist. "Tonight, I'm having my way with you."

Nicole nearly lets out a very indecent noise. She likes every version of Waverly - the dorky Waverly who "only" speaks six languages; the loyal and caring Waverly who would do anything to support her sister and friends and girlfriend; the slightly selfish and impulsive Waverly who sometimes forgets to think of the bigger picture before she acts - but one of Nicole's favourites is the assertive Waverly who won't stop at anything to get what (or who) she wants (and how she wants them). That's the Waverly that Nicole is seeing right now, and she would be lying if she said that she didn't love it.

"Then take me home?" Nicole exhales softly, reaching out to take Waverly's hand in her own.

Thankfully it's only a couple more blocks to Nicole's place and they make it there fast, with Nicole practically dragging Waverly by the hand down the sidewalk. She slots the key in the lock quickly, hand trembling as she turns it, while Waverly does all she can to be unhelpful by snaking her arm around Nicole and letting her hand fall so low on Nicole's hip that it's basically on her ass. It wouldn't normally affect Nicole, not like this anyway, but today she's so jumpy that even the tiniest contact is enough to have her jolting like she's touched a bare wire.

Nicole triumphs over the door and herds them both inside quickly, shutting it with a slam and using her height advantage to push Waverly's back against the door in attempt to give a semblance of having not handed all of the control in this relationship to Waverly on a plate.

Waverly doesn't seem to mind. In fact, her hands drop fully to Nicole's ass, giving both cheeks a squeeze through the material of her new darker uniform pants.

"I do miss the khakis," Waverly tells her, generously palming Nicole's butt as she speaks - her words yet more delay tactics in a whole day full of laters and not yets. "But this uniform has its perks as well - it's very flattering on the curves."

Nicole is happy to discuss the relative merits of the new uniform versus the old one at a later date, in fact she thinks it would make for some pretty interesting foreplay to have Waverly show her exactly what she likes about each version of her work uniform but now, when Nicole needed the build up to end hours ago, is not the time.

"Later," she mumbles, leaning down to rest her forehead against Waverly's.

Nicole doesn't quite close the gap between their mouths though. As much as she's been mentally protesting at Waverly's unnecessary build up, she likes this moment more than she would care to admit. Waverly's eyes are almost too close to focus on but it hardly matters. In this moment, they are close enough to kiss, warm breath mingling and bodies flush against each other, and yet they don't.

"Oh. Is there something else you'd rather be doing?"

With her words still teasing, Waverly tries to give off an aura of confidence but it is the shaky breath she lets out afterwards that betrays her, the only indication so far that she is as affected by this whole charade as Nicole is.

Nicole is the one who finally crashes their lips together - she has to be after Waverly has initiated all that teasing and she knows that the only reason Waverly hasn't already kissed her is because she is waiting for Nicole to do so first. Waverly lets out an indecent moan at the sudden contact, a moan that is swallowed by Nicole’s own mouth as she parts her lips and swipes her tongue against Waverly’s.

It’s a sloppy kiss, both of them filled with an urgency that doesn’t quite align as teeth collide with tongues, but the imperfections are what makes it raw and beautiful and Nicole loves that. Her own hunger is reciprocated in the way that Waverly lips push and pull against her own, one of Waverly’s small hands clawing into the fabric at the hem of Nicole’s shirt and the other one sliding up her back until it finds its home at the base of Nicole’s neck where the ends of her short red hair hang.

Waverly's hands, oh boy, Nicole could write sonnets about those hands and the things they do to her. So many magical touches, but one of her favourites is this, Waverly's fingers threading through the red curls and caressing her scalp, guiding and then keeping Nicole's head exactly where she wants it.

Nicole's own hands are restless. There are so many things she could be doing with them (pulling Waverly's top up and over her head, knotting her fingers into Waverly's hair, ridding Waverly of that wretched skirt so that she can see whether Waverly's earlier message about the lack of underwear was truthful, forgoing the removal of clothes entirely and sending them up Waverly's skirt to see what she'll find, the list could go on forever...) but Nicole thinks that choosing which of those tasks is the most important is pretty damn impossible.

"Bedroom," Waverly mumbles against Nicole lips. "I need you."

Nicole wants to laugh at the irony; how Waverly, who has been winding Nicole up like a clockwork toy for her own pleasure all day, is the one who apparently needs Nicole. But pointing that out to Waverly is a waste of the breath that she doesn't have because Waverly's kisses have stolen the oxygen right out of her lungs.

There are so many better things that they can be doing, which is why Nicole lets both of her hands drop to Waverly's ass so that she can hoist those legs up and around her waist. Waverly complies easily, wrapping one arm around Nicole's neck to give her support while she uses the other hand to brush her long hair over her shoulder. Their change of position hikes Waverly's skirt right up and Nicole's legs almost give way entirely and send both of them crashing to the ground when she finally gets confirmation that there is not a scrap of fabric beneath the skirt.

Nicole manages to keep it together for long enough to make it to the bedroom, though not without Waverly’s best efforts at a distraction. The smaller girl can't seem to wait until they make it there and leans her neck down to press their lips together again as the hand not draped around Nicole's neck falls between their bodies and starts doing some really distracting things to Nicole's breast through the material of her uniform too. Nicole stumbles as Waverly's fingers brush across her nipple and then squeeze, the flesh hyper-sensitive to every touch, even through two layers of clothing, and she only just manages to stop herself from colliding with the doorframe as they enter her bedroom.

Nicole deposits Waverly on the bed before she can drop her and then makes a big show of climbing on top of her. Nicole crawls up Waverly's lithe frame until their heads are level and Waverly is effectively trapped beneath her, Nicole’s hands either side of Waverly's head and her knees framing Waverly's thighs.

"God, you're beautiful."

Nicole means every word. Of course Waverly is an attractive woman (anybody with a functional pair of eyes can see that) but there's just something about the way she lies on the mattress below Nicole's body that takes her breath away. Her hair is splayed in the duvet like a halo encircling her head, her lips are swollen from Nicole's kisses, and her chest rises and falls heavily as she tries to get her breath back. She's ethereal, and she's like this for Nicole.

Because of Nicole.

Nicole wants to see the rest of Waverly though, and she reaches down with desperate hands to the hem of Waverly's top. Nicole revels in the reaction she gets when her fingers brush across the already exposed skin of Waverly's stomach, her ab muscles clenching involuntarily, but she catches on quickly and sits up enough to allow Nicole to pull the unwanted material up and over Waverly's head before discarding it on the floor somewhere behind them.

The sight that greets Nicole knocks all of the air out of her lungs. Waverly is wearing red lace pushup bra decorated with black frills and bows and though Nicole would never have considered black and red to be colours that suit Waverly, who always looks so pretty in patterns and pastel colours, it’s really doing something for Nicole. She’s never seen this bra before and suspects Waverly might have been saving it for a special occasion (Nicole will find out later that Waverly bought it especially for tonight) and it has Nicole salivating. Waverly doesn’t need the extra support of a pushup bra, but the way that her breasts are almost spilling out of the fabric that tries to contain them is definitely not giving Nicole any complaints.

Nicole lets one of her hands slide up the smooth skin of Waverly’s side, letting her palm hover over the delicious globe of flesh that she’s just itching to touch, but Waverly speaks before her hand reaches its final destination.

"Do you remember what I said I wanted to do to you?"

Nicole's fingers hover over Waverly's lace clad breast and she lets out a snort, because how could she possibly forget? It's not like she hasn't been imagining this scenario and every possible variant it could take since Waverly waltzed into the police station this morning and whispered her plans into Nicole's ear.

"Yes," Nicole breathes out.

"Remind me?"

Nicole could put up a fight. She wants to put up a fight because this Waverly, the one who starts her dirty talk seven hours before they can even start removing each other's clothes just to work Nicole up, is so infuriatingly sexy that it makes Nicole want to fight back, makes her want to not give in to Waverly. But it has been seven hours, seven of the most frustratingly tense hours of Nicole's entire life to date, and she knows that she can't wait any longer. She doesn't want to draw this out any more.

"You said you were going to sit on my face until I couldn't remember my own name," Nicole answers obediently, her voice trembling with the anticipation.

It's a position that Nicole has never felt particularly strongly about, either for or against it. Sure, she enjoys it, both ends of it (she'd be mad not to) but when there are countless different ways to pleasure another woman, this one hasn't particularly stood out.

Until Waverly.

They've tried it both ways around, of course they have, and Nicole enjoyed a particularly memorable orgasm with Waverly's face between her own thighs as Nicole rode the youngest Earp's mouth to completion, but when it is Waverly on top, there's just something uniquely special about it. It's a position that suits both their needs - Nicole loves nothing more than to be the one pleasuring Waverly and Waverly has a dominant streak that comes out occasionally in the throes of passion. With this particular position, Waverly gets to be in control of her own pleasure while Nicole can bask in the knowledge that she is responsible for the delicious sounds spilling from Waverly's lips and the trembling thighs on either side of her head.

"And is that something you want me to do?" asks Waverly.

After so much build up, Nicole is hardly going to turn around and say no, but Waverly is asking so much more than that. Though the little smirk teasing the corners of her lips upwards suggests that Waverly is only trying to prolong Nicole's agony, Nicole knows that Waverly is asking for her consent too. This is all Waverly's idea, a fantasy that she's been plotting for god knows how long, but there's a hint of a question in her eyes as she waits for Nicole's affirmative, waits for Nicole to tell her that she's okay with how things are playing out and happy with the shift of power into Waverly's petite hands.

"Waves, please."

Nicole’s plea ignites something within Waverly because she flips Nicole onto her back. With their positons reversed, Waverly sits across Nicole’s thighs and her hands reach out for the belt on Nicole’s pants. She tugs the buckle open easily (practice makes perfect and Waverly has had a lot of practice recently) and then pries the zip down before moving backwards and peeling the pants down Nicole’s legs.

“Come back here,” Nicole beckons, after her pants have hit the floor, and Waverly complies by crawling back up Nicole’s body. Her skirt rides up high on her thighs and Nicole is pretty sure she starts salivating when she remembers that Waverly has no underwear on beneath it. Taking in Waverly’s appearance - dishevelled hair, the lace of her bra barely covering her breasts, the hungry look in her eyes that tells Nicole that Waverly needs this just as much as she does – Nicole shakes her head in disbelief and says breathlessly, “You’re stunning. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours,” agrees Waverly. Taking Nicole’s hand and guiding it to her inner thigh, just underneath the hemline of the skirt that has been taunting Nicole for far too long, Waverly leans forward so that her lips hover just over Nicole’s and whispers, “This is all for you.”

Nicole has to send her hand upwards a couple of inches to find out exactly what Waverly is giving to her, but her brain almost short-circuits at the sheer amount of arousal she finds when her fingers dip between Waverly’s legs.

"Shit, Waves,” Nicole gasps, fingers pushing through Waverly’s folds until they find her entrance, teasing the sensitive flesh there for a couple of seconds before moving upwards and collecting Waverly’s wetness on her fingertips as she goes. “You're soaked."

Waverly lets out a choked cry as Nicole’s fingers dance around her clit, before dipping back down.

"Do you know how long I've been this turned on?" Waverly gasps.

"Tell me,” Nicole commands her. She’s enjoying this shift of power far too much. After so much teasing and spending the whole day at Waverly’s mercy, it’s nice to finally have the upper hand back and having Waverly in her lap, slowly grinding down on Nicole’s exploratory fingers as she seeks pressure in just the right places, is almost enough to temporarily subdue the thrumming arousal between Nicole’s own legs.

"Since last night,” Waverly answers, her eyes falling closed in pleasure as Nicole taunts her opening and slides the tip of one of her fingers inside Waverly just enough to give her a glimpse of what might be to come. “My bed smells like you and - oh god, Nicole, just like that - and my fingers aren't as good as yours. Definitely not as good as your mouth."

Nicole stills her fingers, though she doesn’t remove them from between Waverly’s legs, keeping the pressure exactly where Waverly needs it but without the movement that she so desperately wants. Nicole tangles the fingers of her free hand into Waverly’s long hair, pulling Waverly’s face closer until their noses are touching and they have to go cross-eyed to look at each other.

"Why don't you let me show you how good my mouth can be?"

Waverly lets out a barely audible whimper, before she answers breathily, "Please."

Nicole lifts her head up from the pillow and surges forward to connect their lips in a kiss, swallowing the moan that escapes Waverly’s throat. It’s not quite the action that Waverly wants from Nicole’s mouth – that fun will come a little bit later – but there are other things that they need to do first and Nicole’s attention is primarily focused on finally removing that goddamn skirt. She uses both hands to take it off, one to draw down the zip and the other to peel that fabric away from Waverly’s waist.

With Waverly now naked except for the pretty lace bra covering her breasts, Nicole wants nothing more than to focus her attention on exploring all this wonderful new skin on show, first with her hands and then with her mouth, but Waverly seems to have other plans. She starts to draw Nicole’s shirt up her body, Waverly’s hands skating up the ticklish skin of Nicole’s waist beneath the fabric as she reveals the skin of Nicole’s stomach inch by inch. The distraction of Waverly undressing her is too much and Nicole is way too far gone to be able to multitask and give some distractions of her own.

She does manage to arch her back off the bed enough to allow Waverly to lift her new uniform shirt up and over her head, and when Waverly pauses to admire the sight of Nicole lying beneath her in just a set of mismatched underwear, Nicole gains her composure enough to send her hand up Waverly’s spine, flicking open the clasp on the final garment that covers her girlfriend’s body with practiced ease and watching as the bra falls off and leaves Waverly completely exposed.

With Waverly entirely naked and looking at her like Nicole is the last meal she’ll ever eat, Nicole feels a fresh surge of confidence shoot through her body as she sends her hands down to rest on Waverly’s hips, encouraging Waverly to gyrate slowly on top of Nicole. The slickness that paints Nicole’s stomach just below her navel with Waverly’s movements is a reminder of what is to come, a reminder of Waverly’s promises from earlier today, and Nicole can’t wait to get started on the main event.

“So,” she asks cockily, letting one hand slide up from Waverly’s hip, tracing a delicate pattern up her stomach and over her breast, where she teases over the bud of Waverly’s hardened nipple with barely-there touches, “are you going to sit on my face, or what?”

Waverly lets out a choked noise, a moan that seems to get stuck in her throat on its way out due to the surprise, and her eyes squeeze shut momentarily as she takes a couple of deep breaths in order to regain her composure.

“Baby, are you sure?” Waverly asks, her eyes fluttering open again as she looks down at Nicole with the first trace of doubt since she started her teasing this morning. Nicole looks at her in confusion, pretty certain that she hasn’t given Waverly any cause to doubt her own enthusiasm, and Waverly presses on, “I’m just aware that this has all been my idea and that I haven’t really stopped to…”

“Shhh,” Nicole hushes her and Waverly falls silent.

Sometimes Nicole forgets that Waverly is still new to the lady-loving scene, and it’s particularly easy to forget when Waverly acts so assured about what she wants. Nicole realises that Waverly has probably never had this kind of sexual freedom before, that her previous partners have probably done things the way that suits them and never once considered that Waverly might enjoy things another way, let alone that she might have her own fantasies to fulfil. Nicole wants Waverly to be able to explore her own sexuality how she wants to, and though she is ninety-five percent certain that there will probably never be anything that Waverly could suggest that Nicole won’t at least be open to trying once, she understands that it might take Waverly a while to reach that realisation too.

“Wave, if it’s what you want, then it’s what I want,” Nicole tells Waverly.

Waverly nods but still looks unconvinced. To further prove her point, Nicole sends one of her hands sliding down her own stomach, dipping her fingers into the wetness that waits. Her clit throbs almost painfully as her fingertips pass over it, reminding her of her own state of arousal, but Nicole ignores it and lets her fingers collect as much of the sticky evidence of how much she wants this as she can. Nicole draws her fingers back out of her underwear and raises them for Waverly to see, glistening in the soft lamplight that illuminates Nicole’s bedroom.

“This is how much I want this,” Nicole tells Waverly, watching in satisfaction as Waverly’s eyes darken at the sight of the slickness that coats Nicole’s fingers. “This is how much I want you.” As an afterthought intended as a reassurance, Nicole adds, “Preferably on my face, and soon.”

Waverly wraps her fingers around Nicole’s wrist and brings the hand to her mouth, sliding the fingers between her pink lips. Her tongue laves the digits, sucking every trace of Nicole’s arousal from them. As she is doing so, she starts to crawl up the bed too, shuffling her knees upwards on either side of Nicole as she traverses Nicole’s body towards her destination.

How Waverly has the ability to do both at the same time, working Nicole’s fingers with her tongue and shifting their positions until she is almost hovering over Nicole’s face, when Nicole is having difficulty focusing on even one thing at once, is a complete mystery but not one that Nicole is going to complain about. The visual of what Waverly is doing with her mouth alone is enough for Nicole’s brain to short-circuit, but when she realises that Waverly’s knees have reached their position on either side of her head, presenting Nicole with a delectable view of just how wet Waverly is, she nearly passes out completely.

“Is this okay?” asks Waverly, releasing Nicole’s fingers from her mouth with a wet pop and reaching out for the headboard to support her weight as she waits for Nicole’s last consent.

With both hands now free to do as she pleases, Nicole plants each palm on one of Waverly’s hips, anchoring Waverly’s centre just out of reach of her mouth in a deliberate ploy to tease. Tilting her head slightly to the side, Nicole answers Waverly’s question by pressing her lips to the creamy skin of Waverly’s inner thigh, placing an open-mouthed kiss against the soft flesh and then slowly making her way closer to where Waverly wants her with a series of hot kisses and nips of her teeth.

“Baby, don’t tease,” whines Waverly, one of her hands coming down from the headboard to rest on the top of Nicole’s head, fingers sliding through soft red hair as she attempts to slowly guide Nicole’s mouth to where she wants it.

Nicole lets out a soft snort at Waverly’s plea. She hardly thinks that Waverly has much room to beg Nicole not to tease, when Nicole has been on the receiving end of her tormenting all day. But Nicole doesn’t vocalise this (why would she when there are so many much better uses for her mouth right now?) and instead ignores the fingers threaded through her hair, turning her head the opposite way to give Waverly’s other thigh the same treatment but at a much more torturous pace.

Nicole knows that Waverly can’t mind the slow pace she’s taking too much. After all, Waverly’s dripping core, pink lips spread beautifully by the positioning of her knees, and her stance above Nicole’s face means that it would be oh so easy for her to lower herself the last few inches and take exactly what she needs from Nicole’s mouth.

Except that she doesn’t, and Nicole is more than happy to delay the treat waiting for her, instead enjoying the way that Waverly’s fingers claw at her scalp each time her lips get closer to the apex of Waverly’s legs and the desperate little whimpers that pass so beautifully from Waverly’s lips each time her teeth close around the soft flesh of Waverly’s thighs.

“Nicole, I need…”

Waverly’s voice trails off into a low moan as Nicole finally lets her mouth make contact with Waverly’s sex. She continues to tease as much as she can, sucking Waverly’s labia into the mouth, then dipping just the tip of her tongue into Waverly’s entrance. Her movements are careful and precise, calculated specifically to not give Waverly either the regularity or the placement of the touches that she needs to get anywhere, but the gasps and whimpers that Nicole can hear from above her each time her tongue almost dips close enough to give pressure near Waverly’s clit are feeding her life.

Waverly’s tolerance is remarkable, her hand remaining on the top of Nicole’s head where she could so easily guide Nicole’s mouth exactly where she wants it, but she lets Nicole dictate the pace. Nicole is impressed (she briefly notes that if the positions were reversed, she wouldn’t be able to find it within herself to have even a tenth of the patience that Waverly is showing) but she can’t help but want more.

Without any warning, Nicole runs the flat of her tongue along the length of Waverly’s wetness, then wraps her lips around the aching bud desperate for her attention. Waverly lets out a mewl of pleasure, almost doubling over from the action but for the hand that grips onto the headboard with white knuckles, the only thing keeping her upright. Happy with the reaction, Nicole releases Waverly’s clit with a pop and tilts her head back for long enough to give Waverly a clear instruction.

“Take what you need from me. You don’t need to be gentle.”

Despite Nicole’s assurance, Waverly is careful at first, lowering her stance so that Nicole no longer needs to exert herself by craning her neck up to bring her mouth to Waverly’s centre, but she is slow in her actions. Her eyes are fixated on Nicole’s face, full of caution as she seeks the reassurance that this is okay. Nicole responds by running her tongue through the wetness above her, letting out a hum of approval at Waverly’s familiar taste. The vibrations of Nicole’s moan must do something to Waverly, if the stuttering breath she lets out is any indication, and Nicole does it again, using the hands that she has planted on Waverly’s hips to coax a little movement out of the girl on top.

Realising that Nicole isn’t fragile, Waverly gets the idea and rotates her hips in slow movements over Nicole’s mouth, moving without Nicole’s guidance and adjusting the pace and positioning to meet the pressure that Nicole provides for her with her tongue. Nicole lets Waverly lead, alternating between broad flat strokes of her tongue when Waverly’s movements are wide, and the focused flick of the tip of her tongue against Waverly’s clit when Waverly demands a more specific kind of touch.

“Oh, Nicole…”

Waverly Earp, ever an over-achiever, doesn’t do anything half-assed and riding Nicole’s face is no exception to that. She grinds down in earnest, careful not to smother Nicole but unafraid to take what she needs.

It would be easy for Nicole to lose herself in the moment, to lie back and enjoy the taste of the juices that flood her mouth while Waverly takes her own pleasure, but Nicole has never been a passive lover and she’s definitely not going to start being one now. Waverly no longer needs the support of Nicole’s hands on her hips, in fact they might be more of a hindrance than a help now that Waverly has found a rhythm that works for her, so Nicole lets one of those hands drop and brings it up to the crease between Waverly’s legs.

With her tongue painting circles around Waverly’s clit, a movement that seems to be really doing it for Waverly if the way that she tips her head back and lets out a guttural “yes baby” is anything to go by, Nicole spreads Waverly’s folds with her newly positioned hand and probes at Waverly’s entrance with the tip of her finger. The angle is a little awkward because of the thighs on either side of her that keep Nicole caged in this position, restricting the movements of her shoulders and upper arms, but she still manages to slide a finger into Waverly’s waiting warmth.

The hiss of pleasure that Waverly lets out is definitely worth it, and her hips falter momentarily in their movement against Nicole’s mouth as she gets used to the new intrusion.

“Baby, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

Nicole never realised that talking during sex was something that she was particularly into until Waverly. Then again, none of her previous lovers were Waverly. Nicole loves listening to Waverly talk, both in and out of the bedroom, and though she is certain that she would remain enraptured even if Waverly were reciting something as dull as a grocery list, Nicole lives for these moments. Waverly is never ashamed to vocalise exactly what she wants from Nicole or, usually to much more devastating effect, exactly what she wants to do to Nicole, but it is the way that she says it that gets to Nicole. Waverly retains the same soft enthusiasm that she has when she talks about the other things she cares about in her life, bubbly and passionate, and the only evidence that she knows exactly what her words are doing to Nicole is the barest hint of darkness in her hazel eyes.

Waverly’s movements become more erratic and Nicole can tell that she’s getting close from the way that Waverly clenches around the finger inside her and the sounds that spill from her mouth, a string of moans and choked gasps that is much less coherent than before. The very notion of teasing, of drawing this out so that Waverly is as needy as Nicole has felt all day, disappears from Nicole’s mind. She knows that the sooner Waverly comes, the sooner she gets her turn, and then she can get back to teasing.

With this in mind, Nicole doubles her efforts, hooking her finger every time she thrusts back into Waverly so that she’s reaching that spot inside Waverly that drives her mad while making sure that she keeps a consistent pressure with her tongue against Waverly’s clit. It seems to work and Waverly claws at Nicole’s scalp with her nails, pulling at the red locks with a hint of roughness as she tries to keep Nicole’s mouth exactly where she wants it, a feat that is quite difficult with the amount of movement that Waverly’s hips are giving as they rock over Nicole’s face.

“Nicole! Oh baby, I’m gonna…”

Waverly’s eyes squeeze shut and her head tips back, long brown hair rippling down her back as she tosses it over her shoulder, then she doubles forward as the first waves of pleasure hit her body. The view from between Waverly’s legs gives Nicole a perfect view of the way that Waverly’s abs convulse as the tremors of pleasure shake her entire body uncontrollably, and she lets out a hum of approval at the sight, the vibrations from her mouth giving Waverly yet more stimulation as she rides through the pleasure that wracks her body.

Waverly is beautiful when she comes, and Nicole has to clench her thighs together to ignore the throbbing that intensifies slightly at the sight of Waverly losing herself to her own arousal.

Nicole coaxes Waverly through her climax, slow movements with her fingers and mouth, only stopping when the orgasm tapers out and Waverly actually lifts herself from Nicole’s face. Waverly rolls to the side, collapsing on the mattress beside Nicole with a content sigh.

Wiping at the wetness that coats her mouth and chin, the last evidence of Waverly’s recent activities, Nicole reaches for Waverly with her other arm and uses it to pull the smaller girl into her side. Waverly complies, draping one leg across Nicole’s hip and nuzzling into Nicole’s neck.

“You’re so good at that,” she murmurs in satisfaction.

Pressing her lips to Waverly’s forehead, Nicole says, “You did most of the work.”

Waverly seems to consider this for a moment, then replies, “Maybe, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Waverly lifts her head from where it rests on Nicole’s shoulder, then shifts her position until she is straddling Nicole’s hips. Cupping Nicole’s face with both hands, Waverly leans down until her forehead is resting against Nicole’s, then smirks mischievously down at Nicole.

“I believe it’s my turn to make you feel that good,” she says, a glimmer of purpose flashing through her eyes as she deliberately grinds her hips down over Nicole’s, smearing the evidence of her recent orgasm over Nicole’s lower abdomen.

“Please,” hisses Nicole.

Nicole doesn’t want to seem too eager, even though her entire body is thrumming with excitement and it feels as though there is a four-part choir in her head singing their hallelujahs that she’s finally going to earn her reward after a torturous day, but she can’t help the way that her fingers tangle into Waverly’s hair and pull her mouth down for a bruising kiss. Waverly doesn’t seem to have any complaints, her tongue darting out to lick into Nicole’s mouth, and when she tastes herself on Nicole’s lips and tongue, she lets out small moan of delight.

“I taste good on you,” she whispers into Nicole’s mouth, before her tongue resumes its exploration.

The kiss is hot and messy and full of unspoken promises about what is to come and it is exactly what Nicole needs, but what she also needs is for Waverly’s hand to dip lower, for Waverly to stop messing around and make true of her promises to take her turn being the one to touch Nicole.

What Nicole does not need, is an interruption in the form of somebody knocking loudly on her front door.

“Nicole!” Wynonna’s voice is just audible shouting through the front door from the street outside. “Is Waverly in there with you?”


Chapter Text


The sound of Wynonna’s voice outside, accompanied by her fist hammering against the front door, is the very last thing that Nicole wants to hear right now. Wynonna seems to have an unexplainable talent for interrupting at the worst possible times, but right now, when Waverly is finally about to give Nicole what she so desperately needs, is the most unwelcome interruption of them all.

“Ignore it,” Waverly mumbles against Nicole’s lips, as the hand that has been cupping Nicole’s jaw traces a path down the column of Nicole’s neck and over her clavicle until her palm rests over Nicole’s bra-covered breast.

“I know you’re in there, Haught!” Wynonna’s voice shouts from outside.

It is with great reluctance that Nicole detaches her lips from Waverly’s, arching her chest up to indulge in one final squeeze of Waverly’s hand over the soft globe of flesh. Her own hands seek out Waverly’s hips, rolling the smaller girl’s body off her own so that she can sit up and swing her legs over the side of the bed.

“You don’t have to get that,” says Waverly.

Waverly lies on her side, head propped up in her hand, unashamed of her own nakedness. It’s a beautiful sight, Waverly bare to the elements and in Nicole’s bed, presenting herself like a prize ready to be claimed, but Nicole forces herself to appreciate the view only momentarily, before she reaches down for a pair of jeans from yesterday that lie on her bedroom floor. Slipping her legs into the soft denim, Nicole shimmies them up and over her hips, buttoning them up at the front.

“Of course I do,” she reminds Waverly as she dresses herself. “It’s Wynonna. She knows we’re in here and it could be important.”

Nicole can see the disappointment flash through Waverly’s eyes, but she knows that Waverly understands. For all they know, there could be an emergency that Wynonna needs their help with and as much as Nicole needs to be touched, she also knows that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if Purgatory spiralled even deeper into the throes of the supernatural just because she chose sex instead of answering the door.

“But you haven’t…” Waverly starts to protest weakly.

“Let’s just see what she wants,” says Nicole, pulling a sweater over her head and tugging it down to cover her abdomen as she goes to the bedroom door.

With any luck, Wynonna will be persuaded to leave fairly quickly and Nicole can go back to her bedroom undisturbed, where Waverly can return the favour to provide Nicole with enough relief to be able to formulate a plan to tease Waverly in retaliation for the torment that she has been putting Nicole through all day. Maybe something to do with Nicole’s handcuffs, she’s always wondered what the silver cuffs would look like around Waverly’s wrists and looped through the slats of Nicole’s headboard so that Waverly’s pleasure is entirely at Nicole’s whim…

Of course, luck is not on Nicole’s side today.

“Nicole,” says Wynonna, as soon as Nicole has opened the door. She’s bundled up in her familiar thick coat, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other, and when Nicole peers past her, she can see Dolls leaning against the door of his truck, which is parked at the side of the road just outside Nicole’s house. “Is Waverly here too?”

“Right here,” comes Waverly’s voice, and Nicole turns to watch her girlfriend descend the stairs. Waverly has at least had the decency to put on some clothes – a pair of Nicole’s underwear because her own were left at home this morning as part of her plot to tease Nicole, and Nicole’s new uniform shirt which hangs loose on Waverly’s lithe frame and provides a visual that reignites the yet-to-be-satisfied throbbing between Nicole’s legs – but it’s minimal and leaves very little room for Wynonna to doubt what they have been up to.

“Seriously?” Wynonna wrinkles her face up in disgust at the sight of her scantily-clad sister, arching a single eyebrow at Nicole as if this is entirely her fault (it’s not, Waverly is about two hundred percent responsible for all depravity that has taken place today). “I leave you two alone for five minutes and this is what happens.”

Nicole’s mouth opens as she tries to scramble for an excuse, then promptly shuts when she realises that there is no way of justifying the fact that she left work twenty minutes early to screw her absolute tease of a girlfriend.

Thankfully Waverly, one orgasm ahead and presumably with a brain that is slightly less lust-addled than Nicole’s, jumps in to save the day.

“Oh, like you can talk,” she scoffs, bounding down the last few stairs and leaning into Nicole’s side as she curls one of her arms around Nicole’s lower back. “When Jeremy and I left, the way that you and Dolls were looking at each other can only be described as debauched.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes and looks away, then mutters, “Consenting adults.”

“And so are we,” insists Waverly. “Nicole is my girlfriend and I can do whatever I want to her.”

Nicole clenches uncontrollably around nothing at Waverly’s words, and she feels a fresh surge of arousal drench her knickers. Waverly certainly can do anything she wants to Nicole, that much has been proven today beyond all reasonable doubt, but there’s something about hearing Waverly say it aloud, to hear her say it so flippantly and to her sister, of all people, that has Nicole’s body humming once more with the need to be touched.

“Moving on,” says Wynonna, shoving both hands deep into the pockets of her coat as she continues, “Dolls and I thought we could all go for a drink. No revenants are stirring up shit right now and it’s rare that we all get a moment of quiet to just hang out.” Wynonna’s teeth chew at her lower lip, before she adds, “And we’ve got something to tell you. Dolls is buying.”

From the way that Wynonna glances over her shoulder at where Dolls stands just out of earshot, giving him a meek little wave that he returns, Nicole suspects that Dolls is not aware of this part of the plan.

“What do you think, Nicole?”

Nicole knows exactly what she thinks, which is that if the revenants are currently giving Purgatory a temporary respite from all the usual craziness, Nicole wants to spend those moments of peace upstairs worshipping every inch of Waverly’s body, not in a public place where the presence of Wynonna, Dolls, and every other patron at Shorty’s is going to stop Nicole from reaching a satisfying conclusion after the day of teasing.

But Wynonna is looking at her with a certain amount of pleading in her eye and Nicole can’t say no to it, she really can’t, not when it’s exactly the same look that Waverly gets when there’s something that she really wants too.

“Let’s go,” shrugs Nicole, though the pulsing between her legs is almost screaming out for her to say the opposite.

“Great!” says Wynonna. Glancing across at Waverly, Wynonna’s face distorts in disgust again, before she says, “Put some clothes on, babygirl.”

Just a couple of minutes later, they find themselves making the short walk to Shorty’s behind Wynonna and Dolls. Waverly has dressed once more in her own clothes, though she’s still wearing Nicole’s underwear at Nicole’s insistence (Nicole thinks she’s going to struggle to make it through this drink enough without knowing that Waverly is pantiless beside her).

“Are you sure?” Waverly asks in a soft voice, careful not to let Wynonna and Dolls overhear them. “You didn’t get to…”

“Oh, I know I didn’t,” Nicole answers. “Believe me. One drink, that’s it. Then I’m taking you home and not letting you rest until the sun rises.”

Waverly’s eyes bulge at the whispered promise, and Nicole can only hope that her words are having something of a similar effect to the one that Waverly’s had on her all those hours ago at the police station.

“Who’s teasing now?”

“Oh Wave,” laughs Nicole, “this is nothing.”


Shorty’s is about as busy as Nicole would expect it to be at five thirty on a weeknight, not so full that it’s rowdy but there are enough customers here for a post-work drink that Rosita is being kept busy behind the bar. Wynonna drags Waverly over to a booth in the corner after finally letting Dolls know that he’s paying for the drinks – he agrees without complaint (Nicole decides that he must really like Wynonna) and takes Nicole with him to the bar to help carry the drinks back to their table.

“Are you okay, Nicole?” he asks, leaning on the bar as he waits for Rosita to finish serving another customer. “You look a little peaky.”

“I…” Nicole starts, then closes her mouth. She glances across the room to where Waverly sits, laughing at something that Wynonna has said, then blushes when she remembers the sight of Waverly only fifteen minutes ago; naked, wanton, and using Nicole’s mouth for her own pleasure. Letting out a sigh, Nicole tears her eyes away from Waverly, and then confesses, “Wynonna has terrible timing. Waverly and I were, well, getting into things when she came knocking.”

“Oh.” Dolls’ eyes widen in surprise and he seems to make a concerted effort to look anywhere but at Nicole. “Right. I had no idea.” His eyes flicker up to Nicole, then he glances away quickly, before saying, “Well, one drink, that’s all. Let’s make it a quick one.”

Dolls orders three beers and an orange juice for Wynonna, and Nicole helps him carry them back to the table, sliding into the booth next to Waverly and accepting the kiss that Waverly presses to her cheek.

“One drink,” Nicole echoes Dolls’ promise to Waverly in a hushed whisper.

“Okay,” Waverly agrees with an innocent smile, before not-so-innocently placing her right hand on Nicole’s denim-clad thigh as she picks up her beer with the other hand and takes a sip.

On the other side of the table, Dolls nudges Wynonna with his elbow and prompts her, “Wynonna. Don’t you have something to tell them?”

“Right, yes,” nods Wynonna, eyebrows furrowing together in deep concentration as her eyes flicker between Waverly and Nicole. Clearing her throat, Wynonna continues, “Dolls and I … well, we just wanted to tell you that … you know, it’s a thing.”

Wynonna stumbles over her words, becoming flustered in a way that is most unlike her, and glancing away from them both before she finishes her sentence. As a cop, Nicole prides herself on her ability to read people and situations, but she has absolutely no idea what news Wynonna is trying to impart onto them.

“What?” Waverly queries, echoing Nicole’s thoughts exactly.

“You know,” Wynonna tries to explain, gesturing vaguely between herself and Dolls, “us.”

Dolls rests both elbows on the table and leans a little closer, before starting, “Wynonna and I are…”

“Oh my god, you two are dating?” exclaims Waverly. “It’s about freaking time!”

“No, no!” Wynonna protests. She reaches for her drink with a grimace, then when she realises that it is just orange juice and not the alcohol she’s become accustomed to using as a defence mechanism, winces further and leaves the glass where it is. “You’ve got that all wrong, babygirl! We’re not dating!”

“Then you’re…” Waverly trails off in confusion, before asking, “Sorry, what are you trying to tell us?”

“That we’re a thing,” answers Wynonna, looking first at Waverly, then at Nicole expectantly, as if her words are supposed to clarify whatever the hell she is on about.

“We’re not putting a label on it yet,” Dolls speaks up to clarify. “We don’t want the pressure. Especially not with the baby coming so soon.”

The hand on Nicole’s thigh squeezes, and Nicole feels all of the blood rush from her face as she glances down and sees Waverly’s fingers resting just a few inches from where she needs them to be. She hates the way that her first thought is about whether they could get away with it right here, whether Waverly would be able to slip her hand inside tight denim beneath the table without Wynonna and Dolls noticing, whether Nicole would be able to stifle the usual moans and keep a straight face as Waverly touches her in a crowded bar full of people who have come to know and respect her as Sheriff Nedley’s finest deputy.

“This is such exciting news!” Waverly says gleefully, oblivious to the way that Nicole suffers beside her. “Wynonna, you haven’t had a boyfriend since…”

“Since junior year of high school,” Wynonna finishes with a nod. She looks at Nicole, and then explains, “And that doesn’t really count because I didn’t realise he was my boyfriend until after we broke up. At least that’s what I told him when he caught me with another guy. Anyway, that’s not the point. Dolls is not my boyfriend. Not yet.”

Nicole nods along, trying her best to pretend like she’s interested and hide the fact that she’s actually having some very inappropriate thoughts about Wynonna’s younger sister and the better uses that the hand on her leg could be put to if they were someplace else.

“They’re totally dating,” Waverly says, nudging Nicole with her elbow.

“We’re not!” Wynonna disagrees once more. “I’ve agreed to not show an interest in any other men.” Wynonna cups one hand around her mouth, as if trying to hide what she says next from Dolls, though she doesn’t lower her voice as she jokingly adds, “Not unless they’re really hot! And Dolls is a one woman show too. I’ve given him a free pass on Jeremy though – lord knows that kid needs to get laid!”

Waverly’s fingers dip further towards Nicole’s inner thigh, then back again, her fingers tracing absent patterns on Nicole’s thigh. With the way that she keeps her full attention on Wynonna and Dolls and their news, even engaging in the conversation that Nicole finds herself unable to join in with, Nicole almost wonders if perhaps Waverly doesn’t realise where her hand is and what its movement is doing to Nicole.

Intentional or otherwise, it sends all of Nicole’s blood south, and there is a throbbing between her legs that mirrors the pumping of her heart in her chest. She starts to feel a little bit dizzy, as if Waverly’s fingers against her thigh have somehow cut off her circulation and stopped that oxygen from going to her brain.

“Excuse me,” Nicole interrupts the conversation, abandoning her virtually untouched beer and sliding out of the booth. “I need to use the restroom.”

Nicole hurries to the bathroom as fast as she can without actually running, letting the door to the bar swing shut behind her without so much as a glance back at the table.

She’s the only person in the bathroom and the relative quiet compared to out in the bar is very welcome. Nicole stands in front of the sink and looks at herself in the mirror, taking breaths that are long and slow in order to steady herself and how she is feeling. Turning on the faucet, Nicole splashes cold water on her face and relishes the way that it brings her back to reality, dulling the ache between her legs and allowing her to think a little more clearly than she was able to back in the bar with Waverly’s hand stroking her leg.

The door to the bathroom opens, and in the reflection of the mirror in front of her, Nicole sees the very person she came in her to escape from enter.

“Are you okay?” asks Waverly, approaching the sink and moving one of her hands to rest on Nicole’s waist. The touch, even through the material of Nicole’s top, feels like it is setting her skin on fire and though she came to the bathroom to take a break from all the teasing and to try and calm her arousal before heading back out into the bar, Waverly’s hand reverses all of that work and has Nicole feeling impossibly more wound up than before.

Nicole realises that she’s reached the end of her tether, that there’s only so much teasing she can take.

“Fuck, Waves,” she exhales, closing her eyes to stop herself from doing something very stupid in a public bathroom where anybody can walk in. “I needed you, like, hours ago.”

Waverly’s teeth dig into her lower lip and then, her voice lower than usual and a little husky with her own arousal, she asks, “How desperate are you?”

“No more teasing, please.”

She hopes that her words will make Waverly realise that Nicole is done with these games, hopes that they will encourage Waverly to lead her out of the bathroom to bid their goodbyes to Wynonna and Dolls and head back to Nicole’s place to finish what they started earlier. What she does not expect, is what Waverly implies with her next words.

“I’m not,” replies Waverly. Her gaze, steady and honest, gives Nicole no reason to believe that she is teasing, but it’s not until Waverly’s eyes dart across to the three empty stalls, then flicker back to Nicole with a question in her stare, that Nicole realises what she’s asking. “Do you need me that much?”

Do you need me enough to do it here? That’s what Waverly is asking her. And though having Waverly fuck her in a cramped bathroom stall in Shorty’s bar is certainly not the most hygienic of ideas, nor the most tactful, it’s an idea that once planted in Nicole’s mind, can’t be shaken off.

Nicole considers her situation, considers the fact that the throbbing between her legs will probably take about two seconds of very specific touching to relieve, and makes her decision. Her hand reaches out for Waverly’s, fingers wrapping around Waverly’s delicate wrist, and she leads her girlfriend into the middle one of the three stalls with absolutely no pretence of what she wants. The door closes quickly behind them and Nicole slides the bolt across, though it does very little to protect their dignity if anybody were to enter the bathroom and see two sets of feet in one cubicle.

The space is tight with two of them in one stall and Nicole finds herself with her back against the door, Waverly having no option but to crowd Nicole’s limited personal space. Not that Waverly wouldn’t be pressed up against Nicole, hands curling into the fabric of Nicole’s shirt and faces just inches apart, if they had the luxury of more space.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole groans, as Waverly’s mouth descends on her neck and her fingers start to tug at the buckle of Nicole’s belt. “This must be the least sexy thing ever, having me drag you into a stall in the bathroom at Shorty’s for a quick fuck because I don’t have the control to wait until we get home.”

Nicole is honestly a little ashamed of herself for what they are doing. She’s always prided herself on her control – she was willing to wait weeks into her relationship with Waverly to be intimate for the first time, and she would have waited months or even years if she had to, just to be certain that Waverly was one hundred percent ready to have sex with her – yet here she is, unable to wait even the ten minutes it would take to leave the bathroom, say their goodbyes, and make it back to hers.

Waverly doesn’t seem to mind.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” she tells Nicole, lifting her mouth from where she has been placing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of Nicole’s neck. Between them, the buckle falls open under Waverly’s practiced fingers, closely followed by the button on Nicole’s jeans. “Seeing you like this, having you pull me in here because you can’t wait, because you need me, is one of the sexiest things I’ve seen. It’s such a turn on to know that you’re like this because of me.”

Nicole can do nothing more than let out a strangled noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan as Waverly’s hand slips inside her jeans and cups her over the damp material of her underwear.

“I’ve been teasing you all day,” Waverly continues, her fingers starting to rub barely-there circles over Nicole’s clit through the cotton of her underwear, “hoping that it would make you want me…”

“Baby,” chokes Nicole, eyes flickering shut and her head falling back against the wooden partition between the stalls with a soft thunk, “I want you. I want you so much.”

“… but when we got back to yours, you ignored your own needs and put my pleasure first.”

Waverly’s hand slides up, then back down beneath the fabric of Nicole’s underwear and Nicole lets out a mewl of pleasure as Waverly’s fingertips dance across her clit as they gather up the wetness on their way down to Nicole’s entrance.

Leaning forward, Waverly lets her teeth close around the soft flesh of Nicole’s earlobe, then whispers in a low voice, “Nobody has ever done that for me before.”

Nicole wants to say something in response, something about how she would wait an eternity for her turn if it meant putting Waverly’s needs before her own, but she thinks that the words would have very little meaning considering their current situation and the desperation that led to it. It’s not like Nicole would be able to get the words out anyway, as Waverly chooses that exact moment to enter Nicole first with just one finger, then when she realises that Nicole can easily take it, a second finger too.

“Champ wouldn’t have done that,” continues Waverly, coaxing her fingers in and out of Nicole with slow thrusts. “Champ wouldn’t have lasted long enough to…”

“Can you please stop talking about…” Nicole has to pauses as Waverly’s fingers curl deep within her and hit a spot that has her seeing stars, drawing out a low groan, before she continues, “… about that pathetic scumbag while your fingers are literally inside me?”

Waverly laughs, then withdraws her fingers only to slide in a third on the next thrust, and the stretch is so delicious that is wipes all thought of Champ from Nicole’s mind completely.

“I don’t want you thinking that anything you do isn’t sexy because it is,” Waverly whispers, the hand with its fingers not buried deep inside of Nicole coming up to Nicole’s face, where she brushes aside a few loose strands of hair and then cups Nicole’s cheek with her palm. “It all turns me on. Your uniform, your hair, your smile.”

The way that Waverly keeps talking, her voice low and cool, is perhaps what is most devastating to Nicole’s composure. It’s almost embarrassing how she is an incoherent mess with legs that feel like they could be made of jelly, on the brink of shouting out her orgasm into the empty bathroom at Shorty’s, while Waverly is conversing as casually as she would in any other situation and her fingers don’t still even once while she talks.

“The way you looked at me when I walked into the station this morning,” Waverly continues. Her fingers coax Nicole closer and closer to her orgasm while her voice, low and steady, sends shivers of pleasure down Nicole’s spine. “The way you’re looking at me now. The way you touch me, the way you kiss me.”

To add emphasis to her point, Waverly takes Nicole’s mouth in a kiss, wet and open and so very filthy. It’s the kind of kiss that Nicole would love if she had the brain capacity to fully appreciate it. As it is, Nicole can barely function with the way that Waverly’s fingers don’t still inside her, deep and slow movements that distract her from being able to respond in kind to the tongue that plunders her mouth.

Waverly breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against Nicole, continuing her little speech as her fingers curl inside Nicole and pull her closer to the precipice.

“The way your skin feels against mine,” Waverly tells Nicole. “The way you taste against my tongue. The way you feel around my fingers.”

Nicole can’t help the way that her tight walls clench in anticipation of the rapidly approaching orgasm, as Waverly punctuates her words with a particularly deep thrust that hits all the right spots.

“Yeah, just like that,” Waverly says, the smirk evident in her voice. Leaning even closer, her warm breath tickling the soft skin just below Nicole’s ear, Waverly continues her ruination of Nicole by concluding, “The way you sound when you come for me.”

Nicole’s orgasm has been building for hours, the slowest of build-ups since Waverly walked into the Sheriff’s office in that tiny skirt with a smile on her face and a plan in her mind, but it still takes her by surprise. She shouts out into the empty bathroom when it hits her, wave after wave of pleasure taking over every cell in her body as she spasms in Waverly’s arms and clenches around the fingers that continue to twist and pull deep inside her.

“Everything about you,” Waverly tells her. “You’re the sexiest woman on the planet.”

Waverly’s fingers don’t slow their movements. Instead they continue to draw as much as they can out of Nicole. Each twitch, every moan, is a direct response to Waverly’s touch and the pleasure that ebbs through Nicole’s body, shaking her spine and causing her eyes to roll back into her head, feels like it’s never going to stop.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” says Waverly. “I could watch you do this over and over again.”

Waverly’s words must have magical powers, or maybe her fingers do, because as soon as she says that, Nicole finds herself tumbling over the edge again. The tail end of one orgasm merges into the beginning of another and the quakes and tremors that were slowly fading out ripple through Nicole’s body again, as fresh and as monumental as if this is the first crest of pleasure. It’s hard to tell where she ends and Waverly begins, and Nicole is pretty sure that the only thing keeping her tethered in this reality, while her mind seems to transcend other dimensions in torturous pleasure, are the fingers deep within her, coaxing her through the waves of her climax with slow calculated movements.

“Waverly,” Nicole gasps out, slumping against the wall of the bathroom stall as her second orgasm gradually peters out. “Oh my god. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that before.”

Waverly slowly slides her fingers out of Nicole, eliciting a choked gasp from Nicole’s lips when they brush over flesh that is still sensitive from her previous ministrations. Waverly draws her hand out of underwear that has probably been ruined by the sheer amount of wetness soaked into the cotton fabric, and lifts her hand up so that they can both seen the evidence of Nicole’s arousal coating the digits.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself,” Waverly smirks.

Nicole’s head falls back against the wooden partition that separates their cubicle from the one next door, a breathy laugh passing from her throat as she asks, “You couldn’t already tell?”

“I had some idea,” acknowledges Waverly.

Looking up at Nicole with dark eyes filled with the deserved smugness of somebody who has just given Nicole the two best orgasms of her life to date, Waverly raises the sticky fingers to her mouth and sucks them between her lips. The visual is almost too much for Nicole, Waverly’s cheeks hollowing as she slowly draws the fingers out of her mouth, now glistening with saliva instead of Nicole’s arousal.

But it is the low hum of delight that Waverly lets out, as if Nicole’s taste on her fingers is just that good, that has Nicole clenching around nothing as another aftershock ripple between her legs.

“You taste good,” Waverly tells Nicole.

Without another word, Waverly drops to her knees in front of Nicole and hooks the fingers of each hand beneath the waistband of Nicole’s underwear at her hips, tugging both them and her jeans down her legs in one swift movement until the material gathers around her ankles.

“Waverly, what are you doing?” Nicole chokes out, wondering whether it’s possible to pass out at the sight of Waverly on her knees before her and looking at Nicole like she’s a delicious treat just waiting to be devoured.

“Cleaning you up,” answers Waverly.

“I don’t think I can go again,” Nicole whines, but even as she protests, one of her hands reaches for the back of Waverly’s head and her fingers tangle into long brunette hair. It’s true, Nicole feels spent after the two incredible orgasms she’s still trying to recover from, and though she knows that she’ll probably be more than willing to take a couple more before the night is out, she needs some time to recharge.

“You don’t have to,” Waverly tells her, nuzzling her face into the patch of neatly-trimmed red hair between Nicole’s legs. “Shhh, I just want to taste you.”

Nicole doesn’t have the energy to protest, not when Waverly is so eager and looks so beautiful on her knees in front of her.

Waverly leans in and presses her mouth to Nicole’s centre, darting out her tongue to lick at the folds with one long swipe. Nicole lets out a gasp as the warm muscle meets flesh that is still sensitive from her recent orgasms, and though her hips jerk at the contact, she can’t help but admit that it feels good. Waverly’s tongue moves without real purpose, dipping down to Nicole entrance and then back up again with no proper direction to her movements, simply enjoying the way that Nicole’s wetness collects on her tongue.

And enjoy it she does, if the moan of delight that she lets out is any indication. Nicole’s head falls back as the vibrations of the sound ripple through her body, setting every nerve on fire, and she realises that Waverly’s actions are having the opposite of the desired effect. Instead of cleaning up the mess between Nicole’s legs, the sounds of approval that Waverly lets out, as well as the visual of her on her knees with her eyes closed as if Nicole’s taste is just that good, is sending new floods of arousal dripping between the very folds that Waverly is drinking from.

“You’re beautiful,” Nicole gasps out. The hand that rests on the back of Waverly’s head, more as support for Nicole than to steer Waverly’s mouth to where she wants it, combs through the brown curls encouragingly. “You’re like … a goddess.”

Nicole doesn’t know whether her words have sparked something new in Waverly, or if she’s just been so caught up in the warmth that pervades all of her senses that she missed the change in the movements of Waverly’s tongue, but she very suddenly becomes aware that Waverly’s tongue is moving with much more purpose than it was just half a minute ago.

Waverly,” Nicole gasps out.

Nicole knows that she said she didn’t think she could go again, but now she realises that she was so very wrong. Waverly’s tongue is applying all the right kinds of pressure to Nicole’s clit which, though too sensitive to the touch when Waverly first put her mouth on her, now throbs with the need for another release.

Nicole doesn’t like to get rough during sex, not unless it’s something that she’s agreed with her partner beforehand, but she can’t help the way that her grip tightens on the back of Waverly’s head, using her hand to keep Waverly’s mouth exactly where she needs it with as much care as she can manage. Waverly seems to sense Nicole’s desperation and doubles her efforts, wrapping her lips around Nicole’s clit as her tongue continues to flick against it, letting out another hum of enjoyment.

Nicole cries out into the empty bathroom as she comes, probably loud enough to be heard from the bar itself, but that is the last thing on her mind as Waverly dangles her over the edge of the cliff and then watches her soar away. The orgasm is shorter than the previous two, but it is no less overwhelming, shockwaves of pleasure shaking Nicole’s body and shattering her into a thousand tiny shards. Waverly is there to collect the pieces, her tongue slowing down its movements as Nicole slowly sinks back into reality, her hands gripping Nicole’s hips and keeping her upright as her chest heaves and her eyelids flutter open.

“Wow,” Nicole exhales.

She wants to say more, she wants to thank Waverly for sending her sliding down the hill into ruination, only to save her with the magical touch of her fingers and mouth not once, but three times. She wants to tell Waverly that this is it for her, that she never wants to be with another woman again because she doesn’t think anybody could live up to the impossibly high standards that Waverly has set. She wants to tell Waverly how much she loves her, and that she would follow her to hell and back (something which could actually be possible in a town like Purgatory) just to hear Waverly say those words back.

Nicole wants to say all of that and more, but before she can open her mouth to say anything, the bathroom door crashes open, letting in the sounds of soft music and excited chatter from the room beyond, before it shuts behind the new entrant.

There’s a low groan, then the sound of something thudding against the bathroom wall, before the newcomer speaks.

"Oh, Jesus Christ on a stick.”

Nicole doesn’t know whether it is better or worse that the newcomer to the bathroom is Wynonna instead of a random stranger. Either way, Nicole is mortified. There is absolutely no way of hiding what they have been doing – the space between the bottom of the stall door and the floor is almost a foot high and anybody outside will be able to see that Waverly is on her knees in front of Nicole, whose pants are bunched around her ankles.

“So this is where you two disappeared to,” Wynonna’s voice calls from the other side of the door. “Okay, Haught, here is how this is going to happen. I'm going to pee, because this thing growing inside me has decided to use my bladder as a trampoline, then I'm going to wash my hands and leave, and we're all going to pretend you aren't defiling my baby sister in there."

Nicole does her best to listen to what Wynonna is saying but it’s kind of hard with the sight she has in front of her, Waverly providing a beautiful distraction on her knees with her mouth and chin still glistening with Nicole’s wetness. Wynonna’s words register slowly, and it is after a few long second of uncomfortable silence, during which Waverly climbs to her feet and wipes the stickiness on her lips away using the back of her hand whilst maintaining eye contact that almost has Nicole wanting to go for another round with Wynonna standing right outside their stall, that Nicole realises that mistake that Wynonna has made.

A soft laugh passes through Nicole’s lips and, realising that she cannot say anything that would make this situation more awkward than it already is, Nicole decides to get back at Waverly a little for her day of relentless teasing by enlightening Wynonna to the true nature of what has taken place in this bathroom in the last ten minutes.

"Wynonna? Just for the record, your baby sister is definitely the one defiling me."