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Freja came back from a mission around 10 p.m.
There was a long queue for the bathrooms. She was too tired to wait, so she decided to skip it.
It was a mistake.
She tried to fall asleep, and for a moment, she did - until she woke again. She kept tossing from side to side, scratching at her hair - it was dirty, oily. The rest of her body felt the same, clinging to the stale smell of sweat. Before catching her own scent one more time, she let out a quiet sigh.
"Fuck it."
She groaned and pushed herself up, grabbing her towel and shampoo bottles. Before stepping out of her room, she checked the time.
1 a.m.
Well, at least there won't be a queue...
She finally reached the shared bathroom. Without paying much attention to the sign, she grabbed the handle and tried to open the door.
What???
Why wouldn’t it open?
Had they really closed it overnight?
Then she glanced up at the sign.
“Out of order.”
What???
How?
What the hell?
She nearly groaned, but forced herself to stay quiet - any noise would echo through the hallway. She paused, thinking.
Okay, the other women’s bathroom is in a different section...
She glanced to her right. The men’s bathroom didn’t have that sign. She bit her lip, hesitating.
Okay, fuck it. It’s one a.m. What could possibly go wrong? Most agents were already in bed, resting.
She stepped inside slowly, quietly scanning the room first.
Empty.
Good.
Safe?
She finally stepped under the water, letting it rinse away the dust and grime of the day. But her thoughts didn’t wash off so easily.
Emre Sarioglu.
Her hair was already heavy with shampoo when she leaned back against the tiled wall, the water no longer hitting her directly. She drifted half-present, half-lost in her own... horny wonderland. Her fingers moved absentmindedly, finding that sensitive spot right in the center. She bit her lips slightly, while keeping imagining the dirty scenes in her head.
Emre’s voice. His arms. His chest... his abs...
She bit her lip, her breath unsteady, the images playing too vividly behind her closed eyes.
The shower room was simple - five stalls facing each other, separated by frosted glass partitions. Each entrance was only half-covered, just enough to suggest privacy without fully granting it. Freja had developed a habit of draping her towel over the handrail that connected them all- a small barrier, a thin illusion of safety. Unless someone chose to look, really look, it was enough.
The door clicked.
Footsteps.
At first, she didn’t react. Just another late-night straggler, she thought. Until she heard it - a cough.
A man’s cough.
Her eyes snapped open.
FUCK, I FORGOT I WAS IN MALE'S BATHROOM.
Her breath hitched.
Stupid... ridiculous... how dumb could I be...
Instinctively, she turned toward the wall, going completely still. Every muscle locked, as if movement itself might betray her. Her thoughts scrambled. She pressed both palms to her face, tilting her head up like she might find answers written on the ceiling.
Did he see me...?
Oh God.
Her hair was still thick with shampoo, suds clinging stubbornly. She hadn’t rinsed. Hadn’t finished. Not even close.
What am I supposed to do?
Leave like this? Stay? Pretend nothing happened?
She stood frozen, facing the wall, water quietly running somewhere behind her, her thoughts louder than anything else in the room.
How am I supposed to get back to the women’s changing room... it’s in a completely different direction.
If anyone sees me walking around soaked in just a towel, that’ll raise even more questions.
She bit her lip hard, staring at the shower as if it might offer her answers. Or at least some kind of advice.
I’m so screwed.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Okay. I’ll just... finish washing my hair quickly, and that’s it. Dry off, get dressed, and go back to my room like nothing happened.
Great plan.
She clung to it. Quickly rinsing her hair, moving as fast as she could. The problem came when she reached for the shampoo bottle - it slipped.
Right onto the floor.
Rolling closer to the side where the man was showering.
Thanks, universe.
She shut her eyes tighter, fighting the urge to groan. Slowly, carefully, she turned and crouched, reaching out. The moment her fingers closed around the bottle, she felt resistance.
Someone else had grabbed it too.
“Oh, I was about to give it to you.”
She flinched at the voice and almost dropped it again.
Emre.
Oh God… why?
She stood up quickly, retreating behind the frosted glass. He chuckled softly and stepped just far enough to hold the bottle out, a towel loosely set aside. Thankfully, he didn’t look.
“Here.” He tilted it toward her.
Freja snatched it quickly. She coughed, clearing her throat, lowering her voice as much as she could. “Thanks, man.”
“You’re... welcome?” he replied, uncertain.
Silence followed.
She imagined him shrugging before stepping back into his own space. The water started again. Freja exhaled sharply, her breathing uneven. A flicker of anxiety crept in - not just because her obvious crush was showering right next to her, but because she had crossed into a space she shouldn’t have.
Stupid. Stupid.
I should’ve stayed quiet...
Okay, maybe he didn’t notice. Or doesn’t care.
Or he knows and just... doesn’t want to make it worse.
Get a grip, Freja.
She forced herself to continue, rinsing her hair and finally applying conditioner. This time, no mishaps. No slipping bottles. Meanwhile, she heard his water shut off.
He’s done?
Good. That means he’ll leave soon. I’ll have time to dry off and change.
Footsteps.
The door opened.
Closed.
Silence.
No more movement.
Perfect.
Thank you, universe.
She finished her shower and turned off the water. Reaching for her towel, she tilted her head slightly, closing her eyes for a moment as she wrapped her hair. When she straightened and opened them...
He was there.
Right in front of her.
Standing in nothing but a towel slung low at his hips, arms folded.
Oh well.
I am officially fucked.
She instinctively crossed her arms over herself, ridiculously trying to hide what he had already seen.
“Hey, Frej,” he said, tilting his head. “Looks like you got a little lost.”
His hair was still wet, so was the rest of him. And somehow, that only made him look even more... hotter.
“I’m... yuh.” Heat rushed to her face as she took a small step back.
He chuckled. “Didn’t know you had such... wild fantasies.”
“What?” she whisper-shouted, raising a brow.
“Taking care of yourself in the men’s showers?” he gestured loosely.
“Ah... well... I didn’t exactly plan on ending up here,” she said with an awkward smile.
“Oh? Really?” His smirk deepened.
Damn. That tone. Lower. Warmer.
That meant one thing. He wasn’t just amused. HE’S TURNED ON AND INTERESTED.
“Yeah, I-”
Her towel slipped from her head and hit the tile, instantly soaking up water. She glanced down.
Oh well. No more clean towel for me.
Fucking great.
Emre followed her gaze. “Looks like your towel’s in shock too.” He stepped forward, picking it up. “Shame it got wet.”
“Oh well,” Freja shrugged lightly, forcing a crooked smile. “Misbehaving towel.”
“Only the towel?”
His hand closed around hers before she could react. In one smooth motion, he pulled her forward, pressing her back against the wall. His body pinned hers in place.
“I think I’m looking at the real troublemaker,” he murmured, leaning in close.
She inhaled sharply. “Em... what are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m about to teach a lesson,” he said softly, his breath brushing her ear. “So misbehaving girl remembers that wandering into the men’s showers... comes with consequences.” His voice dipped lower. “Especially when it’s a pretty girl... touching herself sneakily.”
Her breath broke when his lips grazed her ear.
“Hm?” His hand moved to her chin, lifting it gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tell me, Frej... who were you thinking about?”
Her heart pounded. Words caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. His eyes traced her face slowly before settling back on hers. He tilted her chin higher.
“So... who was it?” His tone sharpened, quieter but more insistent.
She stared at him, lips parting.
'You'
they silently formed.
“Say it,” he pressed, grip tightening just slightly. “Out loud.”
“It’s you,” she breathed.
A quiet chuckle escaped him as his hold loosened. “Ah... you can finally speak a word.”
“Two words,” she corrected softly, still holding his gaze.
“Even better,” he murmured. “You’re getting bold, Frej.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip, pulling it down slightly. Her eyes flickered to his hand, then back to him. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned in - her tongue brushing against tip of his thumb. His breath hitched.
She didn’t look away.
Not once.
Her hand slid up, wrapping around his wrist, guiding it closer as her mouth slowly took his thumb deeper.
For a moment, Emre’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t expected that kind of boldness from her. A quiet breath escaped him as she sucked on his finger, closing her eyes in the process. Leaning into the moment, and the sight alone made him bite down lightly on his own lip.
Gently, he drew his hand back, then caught her wrist, guiding it upward instead. His lips brushed against her three fingers in a slow, teasing motion. Instinctively her fingers found their own way inside of his mouth... which he encouraged by parting his lips slightly.
“What are we doing, Emre?” she asked softly.
“I could ask you the same thing, Frej,” he replied, his voice lower now.
For a moment, he hesitated. His forehead rested lightly against hers, their breaths mingling. “Should we... stop?”
Freja closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, steadying herself. When she opened them again, he was still there, just inches apart.
“I don’t think... I want to stop,” she murmured.
He bit the inside of his cheek, his gaze fixed on her lips as if drawn there. She didn’t look away either - her eyes lingering on his, then dropping back to his mouth, caught in the same quiet pull.
"Me too..."
“Emre...”
The way she called out his name was enough.
He closed the distance.
The kiss came sudden and certain, charged with everything they hadn’t said. His hand slid into her hair, steady but firm, while the other found her waist. She couldn’t resist but to enjoy tasting him, as her tongue wondered during their exchange of flavors. Her hands moved instinctively, tracing from his neck down to his chest, over his shoulders, then back again like she was mapping him out by touch, memorizing every line without thinking.
They broke apart only for a breath before finding each other again, quicker this time, like neither of them wanted to give the moment space to disappear. Soft gasps slipped between them as the tension built, their movements growing less careful, more instinctive. In the blur of it, Freja’s hand brushed the control and suddenly the shower roared back to life, water spilling down.
Over him.
Emre flinched. “Freja-!”
“Oops... I didn’t mean to,” she said, a quiet laugh slipping out.
He exhaled, shaking his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “To be fair... I probably needed that.”
“Oh? Got too hot?” she teased.
He stepped closer again, unfazed. “Not exactly. If anything...” His voice dipped, softer now. “It makes me even more excited. Especially when you talk to me that way.”
He smirked and caught her lower lip gently between his teeth. She answered with a smirk of her own and returned the gesture, just a little rougher, a quiet promise that she wasn’t about to fall behind.
“I didn’t know you can be that... aggressive,” he chuckled.
“I told you once,” she murmured, her lips brushing along his neck, “I can be... dangerous.”
“Oh... I see that now,” he exhaled, eyes closing as he bit his lip.
She lingered at his neck, letting her mouth trail slowly, tasting every inch of his skin. Soft bites and sucks came along the way. Every small reaction gave him away - the shift in his breath, the way his shoulders tensed, the quiet sounds he couldn’t quite hold back. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d found a weak spot.
“Enjoying it a little too much?” she smirked.
“How could I not...” he breathed, a quiet laugh tangled in it. “I’m a simple man.”
She traced her way from his neck up to his ear, her voice dropping. “Wouldn’t say so,” she whispered, her lips barely grazing the edge of it.
“Freja...” Her name slipped out of him, unsteady, as he tilted his head back before shifting closer again. “You're gonna kill me.”
“Not today,” she replied, a hint of triumph in her smile.
He smirked back and slowly kept lowering his hand. It approached her core, which he traced with his finger, It was enough to draw a quiet breath from her. Then he pulled back slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips tasted his own finger.
“Sweet.”
“Oh really?”
“Indeed.”
He lowered himself just enough, “Very sweet. Like honey," slowly opening her legs and dipped his head right between her thighs.
Oh God.
She couldn’t believe what was happening before.
What about now?
It’s like she’s in on the way to heaven.
Seeing him like that - right there, in that moment - felt unreal, like something pulled straight from a dream she wasn’t ready to wake from.
His tongue kept wondering around her clit, while his finger slowly entered her to stimulate better. Every movement, every glance, drew another quiet breath from her, her composure slipping bit by bit. Her fingers tightened slightly in his hair, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Emre...”
He looked up at her, his expression shifting, softer but just as intense. “Yes, canım?”
She hesitated, swallowing, her pulse loud in her ears. “Can you... fuck me... now?”
For a moment, everything paused.
He exhaled slowly, something flickering across his face before he rose to his feet again. And somehow, through all of this - his towel still hadn’t slipped once.
Lucky...
“You sure you really want this, Frej?”
“Yes.”
He blinked, hesitating. “Have you... Have you done this before?”
“Yes. I’m not a virgin,” she replied, rolling her eyes lightly.
“Oh.” He paused, something flickering across his face.
For a moment, his gaze drifted. The thought lingered, a mixed feeling. He felt a quiet sense of relief knowing she wasn’t inexperienced, that she understood what she wanted, how things worked. But at the same time, the thought of someone else having been there before him stirred something less comfortable. It wasn’t anger, not exactly. Just a sharp, fleeting edge of jealousy he couldn’t quite ignore. A part of him wished he had been the first - the one she would remember above anyone else.
Still, he pushed that aside. Because whatever came before didn’t matter as much as this moment. And right now, he had her here, with him - and that was enough.
“Well,” he muttered with a faint chuckle, “that explains the confidence.”
“So... are you going to fuck me, or just stand there?” her tone came out more demanding than she intended.
“As you wish, Frej,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.
He finally took off his towel and threw it on the tile. She couldn’t help herself but to finally glance down there.
At his meat.
Oh.
She expected him to be big. But… it appeared to be even bigger actually experiencing it.
Her eyes widened just slightly before she caught herself.
How's it going to fit in?
That was her second thought. It wasn’t enormously big. Just more than enough for her standards. Also might be the reason as she used to be with smaller ones before. So now... it’s a big change of plans.
Don't back down now, Freja.
You got this, girl.
“Is something wrong?” He glanced up at her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
Oh damn him.
He knew he’s good.
“I... it’s just...” she started, an awkward smile slipping through.
“Didn’t expect it?” he tilted his head slightly.
Oh, she definitely had.
Still... it caught her off guard.
“Oh, I-”
He chuckled softly, cutting her off. “You don’t have to answer. I get it.”
He leaned in, pressing a gentler kiss to her lips this time, his hand cupping her cheek with unexpected softness.
“You’re beautiful, Frej.”
She smiled faintly. “You really like the small talk?”
He frowned for a second. “I see you’re getting impatient.” The smirk returned almost instantly as he turned her around, pinning her against the wall.
“Be a good girl and bend for me,” he murmured near her ear, his voice low.
“And if I don’t listen?” she challenged, a hint of playfulness in her tone.
He chuckled under his breath. “Stubborn. I should’ve guessed.” His hands traced down her spine, lower right to her asscheeks which he squeezed.
“You know me,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing back at him.
“Then I’ll have to force it,” he replied, his voice tightening just a little and pushed her backwards, bending her enough, “you’re a bad girl from now on.”
"Oh no...", she let out a soft laugh. “what am I suppose to do now.”
“Get the same treatment as bad girls do.” He slapped her asscheek, just enough pressure to remind her he meant it.
She stilled for a moment, surprised, “...didn’t expect that side of you,” she admitted.
His answer came low, almost amused. “You’re not the only one full of surprises.”
He didn’t hesitate to enter her in a way that caught her completely off guard. A sharp gasp escaped her - half surprise, half the sudden rush of sensation. It had been a while... since she haven't had sex. Her core was... not prepared enough.
“Emre...” she breathed.
“Did that hurt?” he paused, a hint of concern slipping through.
“Uh... no, it’s fine,” she muttered, biting lightly on her lip.
He tilted his head, studying her. “Trying to act tougher than you feel?” There was a quiet edge of amusement in his voice. “I haven’t even gone halfway.”
Freja’s eyebrows shot up, her hands bracing against the cool tiles as she steadied herself, her breath catching just slightly.
NOT EVEN HALF?
Jesus fucking Christ.
Maybe I shouldn't have asked him to fuck me.
He chuckled softly. “Experienced, huh?”
“It was a while ago!” she shot back. “And I didn’t expect you to be that...”
“Big?” he finished for her.
“...Mhm.”
Massive would be more correct word.
He exhaled, the teasing easing out of his expression. “Alright. I’ll take it slow.”
His pace became measured - giving her time to adjust and stretch enough for him. He watched her closely, paying attention to every shift in her expression, every small reaction. Gradually, the tension in her body began to ease. Her grip softened, her breathing steadied. He noticed.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
“Mmmm,” she nodded, a soft sound escaping her.
He smirked, gripping her asscheek just enough to remind her he was in control. “you’re still a very bad girl.”
“Then do something about it,” she shot back, her breath uneven but defiant.
“With pleasure.”
His hand traced along her back while the other steadied her hip. He started to thrust faster and deeper. “You should beg more.”
“I...”
“Can’t hear you.”
He stopped and gripped her both hands together, pressing them above her head at the wall.
“For fuck sake, just fuck me Emre.” She groaned.
He smirked, “you could at least ask nicely,” he murmured close to her ear.
Freja turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was challenge there - but something softer beneath it too.
“... Please, Emre... Fuck me,” she said quietly.
“Of course, Güzelim.” he murmured.
He pulled her into another kiss and continued thrusting. With each second his temp increasing, the kiss became more devouring. She answered just as fiercely, biting his lip back, small sounds escaping before she could stop them.
The kiss broke as he pressed her head at the tile and she felt the cool surface beneath her cheek. The contrast sent a small shiver through her - yet somehow, it only made everything feel more enjoyable. Her breathing turned ragged, each moment pulling her further in. Half formed ‘yeah’ and ‘more’ slipped out between breaths. She couldn’t resist but to wonder with her own hand down to her clit. She gathered enough of mixed juices at her entrance and applied on it, so it would be slippery enough to rub.
“You’re so soaked for me.”
He murmured, his voice low, breath unsteady as he leaned closer. His hand lingered at her neck, the other rested against the tile beside her, caging her in without forcing it.
“Promise me something,” he said, tilting her head just enough so their eyes met.
She parted her lips slightly as his thumb brushed over them. “What is it?”
His jaw tightened for a second before he spoke. “Promise me you won’t let anyone else get this close."
She raised a brow, a faint smirk forming. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
He exhaled sharply, a quiet frustration in it. “Promise me... that you won’t get fucked by another man.”
She held his gaze, slowly sucking on his thumb, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I promise.”
“Promise what?” he pressed, his fingers lifting her chin again.
A flicker of mischievous smile crossed her face. “That the only man who is allowed to fuck me... is you Emre."
That seemed to settle something in him.
“Good.”
He pulled out and turned her around quickly. In one swift motion he picked her up, grabbed her hips and pinned her to wall.
“Because I don’t share.”
He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he held her gaze.
“You’re mine, Freja.”
He kissed her fierce, breathless, like neither of them wanted to slow down. She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he entered her once again. They broke apart briefly, their foreheads nearly touching as they both panted against each other’s lips.
“We need to keep it down,” he murmured close to her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t want anyone catching us sneaking out.”
She nodded, biting her lip as he leaned closer while keeping the rhythm. Sooner, his breathes became more uneven.
“I can’t hold back much longer, Frej,” he whispered, biting his own lip, thrusting even faster.
Her breath caught, her hands gripping him a little tighter. “Then don’t...” she murmured, “cum for me... fill me up Emre.” she moaned quietly.
He searched her face for a second, as if making sure, really sure.
“You really want that?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” She pleaded.
“Are you-”
He opened his mouth, then stopped himself, reading her instead. She nodded again, her answer written more in her expression than words.
That was enough.
He held her hips tighter, increasing his thrusts even more. At last, his final thrust went deeper, filling her up with his warm semen while both of them reaching their climax, calling out each other’s names. They tried to stay quiet, but a few soft moans still slipped out - barely more than breaths, swallowed quickly by the steady rush of the water.
For a second, neither of them moved - he still held her. A soft laugh slipped from him first, followed by hers as their foreheads brushed together.
“That was... crazy.”
“We are crazy,” she corrected, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
He looked at her again - really looked this time, like he was trying to memorize the moment. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentler kiss to her lips. No urgency now. Just something softer. Something meaningful, something pure.
He finally put her down on tile and stepped back after a moment, still watching her, admiring his art work, before finally reaching to turn off the water. The sound faded, leaving only their breathing... and the quiet aftermath of something neither of them would forget anytime soon.
“I can already imagine Morrison’s face when he sees the water bill,” he chuckled.
“As if he pays it himself,” Freja rolled her eyes, glancing up at the towels.
Emre caught the look. “Relax, there are clean ones.” He turned and started toward the exit.
“I never thought I’d be borrowing a towel from the men’s bathroom.”
“Hey,” he glanced back over his shoulder, “not my fault you ended up here.”
“Fair point.”
He grabbed a fresh towel for her and one for himself. Without making a big deal out of it, he helped dry her hair, his movements surprisingly gentle, especially as she swayed slightly, already half-asleep.
“There,” he said with a small smile, giving her a light pat on the head. “All set for bed.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” she muttered.
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When they stepped out of the bathroom, Emre moved first, checking the hallway to make sure it was clear. Freja glanced up at him one last time before turning to leave, but he caught her arm.
“Frej... I was serious,” he murmured, his voice low.
“About what?” she asked, raising a brow.
“The promise.” His gaze held hers, steady, searching.
“Em,” she sighed, “I wouldn’t mess around with other agents. It’s against the rules anyway.”
“I didn’t mean just agents.” His expression tightened slightly.
She paused, then gently pulled her hand free. “I get it,” she said, tilting her head. “It’s late.”
He exhaled slowly. “Yeah... it is.” He stepped back, just enough to let her go. “Good night.”
“Sleep tight.”
She offered a quiet smile before turning and walking toward her room. Even without looking back, she could feel it - him standing there a moment longer, watching until she disappeared around the corner.
For a moment she couldn’t believe any of it happened.
Should she be blaming herself?
Probably.
But the other part of herself was grateful.
Because it was amazing sex.
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