˖ ݁♬⋆.˚BATHROOM BITCH˖ ݁♬⋆.˚
fanart (middle pic): Leah_drawz on tt
Summary: Singer!Jinx has been obsessed with you since the two of you hooked up after one of her shows.
Warnings: Smut! !MDNI! Explicit sexual content, oral sex (Jinx receiving), smoking / cigarettes, strong language, semi-public sex (backstage) idk what else
Inspired by the song: Bathroom Bitch by HOLYCHILD
A/N: Guys...I haven't written in smut in a long time and I kinda hate how this turned out. It feels really rushed and I apologize for that. I will definitely continue to try and get better. Anyways, I still hope you enjoy it!
The venue is packed. The atmosphere consists of cheap liquor, cigarette smoke, loud cheers, and sweat-slick bodies. Hot and sticky bodies are pressed against one another like sardines stacked in a tin can. You hold onto the bar of the metal barricade that separates the stage from the crowd. A cigarette hangs loose from your lips as you pull short drags from it, exhaling the smoke from your nose. You pull the dying butt from your mouth and drop it to the concrete beneath you, snuffing it out with the sole of your boot. The band is way past its designated start time—nothing new to this scene. It was more than common for shows to start at least an hour after the time promoted on the flyers.
You were really only here for Jinx. She had begged you to come and you couldn’t help but fold at the sight of her blue eyes, all wide and bright, peering up at you. You’ve been to her shows before. That last one you went to was a few weeks ago, some house party that lasted until dawn and ended with the two of you pressed up against a bathroom sink, and with you knuckle deep in her cunt while she clawed at your shoulders. You still have the marks to prove it—lasting evidence of Jinx’s desperation.
You’re growing impatient and the scent of alcohol continues to linger in the air. You frown, growing discontent with the odor. The lights are set at a brighter setting as the crowd moves to the random music blaring from the speakers. The bass reverberates and ricochets off of the walls. It was all becoming too much—you just want to see Jinx sing and then beeline backstage to her.
Suddenly the lights dim, the random techno beat from the speakers is replaced by the cheery voice belonging to the bubbly woman you’ve begun to admire. She skips onto the stage, microphone in hand and guitar slung over her shoulder. The rest of the band files onto stage and places themselves into their rehearsed spots. You recognize a few of the members—Jinx’s sister, Vi, is the only name that has actually stuck. The rest of the members just blur into the background, forming a frame around the true masterpiece that Jinx is.
She’s grinning ear to ear, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she scans the crowd. Excitement flows through her veins, an electrical current that leaves every one of her nerves on fire. Her eyes are everywhere, looking at almost every individual in the crowd before her blue-eyed gaze falls onto you. You swear you can hear the shift in the rhythm of her breath as the mic picks up the sound. You send her a wink, a wicked grin plastered on your lips. You love seeing her up there. Witnessing her in her element, watching her thrive as the center of attention. The lights come back on, but in a different design. Purple, blue, and pink hued bulbs shine down onto Jinx, illuminating the tattoos etched into her skin and the pink shimmer painted onto her eyelids.
“Hello!” She calls out into the mic, beaming as the crowd erupts into a cheer. You add to the commotion by jumping up and showing your excitement.
“We—” she begins to fiddle with the strings of her guitar, assuring the correct tuning before strumming a chord in preparation for the set. “We have a few pretty fucking awesome songs.” The crowd screams in unison. She adjusts the guitar strap on her shoulder. You ogle at her, seeing the way the colored light settles into the contours of her body. Oh how you wish you could trace its pattern with your tongue.
Jinx glances at you, cheeks flushing as she steps closer to the mic, which now sits comfortably in a stand. Her voice drops in volume, “I’m gonna let you little freaks in on a secret…” She’s practically buzzing with excitement, fingers tapping on the fret board as she attempts to ground herself. “There’s a little song that I’m gonna sing and it’s a doozy…you’ll just have to wait and see!” She throws you one last look, including a wink in the motion before skipping back from the mic. The lights shift and a bass riff begins to leak from the amp and pours into the structure of the venue, letting you feel the music in your feet and up to your crown. The set begins and you let loose.
You’ve lost count—not entirely sure what songs they still have left to play in their set but it doesn't matter, you’re focused on living in the moment. Focused on living in the radiating light that swarms Jinx’s stage presence. You bounce around and follow the movement of the crowd, falling into the chaos that ensues from the energy that Jinx gives to the room. The song dies out, a muffled chord playing itself through with no intervention. Jinx runs a hand through her bangs, slick sweat molding her hair into a messy style. She is so into it—you can tell by the way her chest heaves and her eyes glass over with a stain that can only be labeled as pure adrenaline. She bumps the mic with her nose accidentally, giggling at the contact. The muffled noise sends shivers down your spine, a chill crawling up your arms despite the stuffy climate of the space. She grabs a hold on the stand, using it to balance herself.
She catches her breath and pulls her guitar from her body, setting it in a stand near her, before muttering into the mic, “This last one is called Bathroom Bitch and uh—” She tilts her head, contemplating how far she should elaborate on the title before straightening back up and smirking devilishly. “Just fucking listen!”
The music comes alive once again and the crowd follows suit. You get pulled into the middle, the eye of the storm. Your body gets pushed around in the pit. You focus on the pressure of hands on your arms as you get shoved around. You’re so distracted with not falling that the lyrics barely register in your mind.
“I wanna fuck you in the bathroom—” She begins, the notes leaving a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. You manage to worm your way through the crowd and back to your original spot near the barricade. Jinx continues to jump around, each bounce emphasizing the words of the chorus. You feel your chest tighten—images of your shared risky rendezvous at the party from before. You’re star struck. This is about you. These lyrics, this song, it’s all for you.
Jinx moves with the music, falling carelessly to her knees, shuffling to the edge of the stage where she’s just barely in reach from you. You manage to push through the moving crowd, making it to the edge of the barricade. She holds the mic to her lips as she braces herself with one hand, leaning over the ledge to get closer to you. Desire flows through your body, the substance settling in your lower stomach, teetering on the precipice where it threatens to travel further south. Jinx can see it, the way your eyes have glazed over in an all too familiar way. She sings her lyrics—sharing the words meant for your ears.
You’re enamoured by her, your lip catches between your teeth as you watch her fall back onto the balls of her feet before bouncing back up and moving away from you.
The lyrics aid in the images already flashing through your mind.
”In the bathroom, in the library, I feel your love inside of me–”
Jinx bounces around, stepping with the beat of the music that blares from the amps and monitors around her.
“–at the movies or your mom’s apartment,” she looks at you, grinning wickedly, “only when you say you want it.”
The crowd continues to move, their parading faltering as the song comes to an end. Your knuckles are practically white with how harshly you’re gripping the metal bar in front of you. Jinx is just beaming, still riding the high of the performance. The set comes to an end and you’re ready to pounce.
Jinx waves to the crowd, retreating to the backstage area. You’re quick to follow–weaving through the thinning crowd and towards the door that’s labeled ‘authorized personnel only’. Yeah, fuck that. You push the door open, catching a glimpse of your bluenette step through a door down the hall. You move swiftly, giving a small nod to the red head that dips into a room across the hall.
You open the door and walk in, shutting it behind you, locking it securely. You look at Jinx, who’s lounging on the small couch in the far side of the room. The warm lights screwed into the perimeter of the large mirror across from her illuminate the beads of sweat racing down her temple, catching flecks of glitter as it travels further down to her cheek and to her jawline. Her chest is heaving, rising and falling as she attempts to ground herself.
“Hey, toots.” Her eyes glimmer in the light, a knowing sign of just how far gone she truly is after her show.
You push off the door, striding toward her confidently, “Well, hello to you too–” you stand in front of her, nudging her foot with your boot, directing her to part her legs. “–Bathroom Bitch.”
A small giggle falls from her lips as she leans forward, placing her hands onto your hips. She rests her chin on your navel, round eyes peering up at you as her lip catches between her teeth. “You like it?” She mutters as her fingertips, raw from the friction of guitar strings, slip under the hem of your shirt. She pushes the fabric up just enough so you can feel her breath on your skin. Your hand moves to her head, fingers treading through the sweaty strands.
She presses a wet kiss to your stomach, pulling back to wipe the lipstick smear from your skin before leaning back in to drag her tongue along your skin. You let out a soft hum as she nips at the flesh, “You’re insane, Jinx–”
“Yeah–” She mutters, fingers moving to work the button of your jeans, “–but you still came to the show.” You help her pull your jeans down your legs, haphazardly kicking your boots off in the process. She sits up, gaze set on your panties, “My little groupie.” she mumbles.
You scoff, hands moving back to her hair. You tug at the hair near the nape of her neck, pulling her head back. “Real funny, Jinx,” you move down to your knees, sitting at eye level with her as you lean in close, pushing her closer with your grip on her, “you’re the one who wrote a song about how good I fucked you, sweetheart.” You coo in an almost patronizing tone. You watch as her pupils darken, breath catching in her throat.
Jinx grins. “What? It got a great reaction.”
“You named it Bathroom Bitch.”
“And somehow that’s the part you’re hung up on?”
“Okay, okay. Maybe I got a little carried away.”
She laughs. “Fine. A lot.”
You release your hold, both hands falling to settle on her waist. She reaches out, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She pulls you close as you lean in, lips meeting a rushed kiss. You squeeze her sides, sighing into her mouth as she pushes her tongue past your lips. Your lips work in a tandem, clumsily dancing as you make an effort to rid her of her concert attire. She breaks the kiss, catching her breath for only a moment before aiding you in pulling off the layers of clothes on her upper body. Your eyes trail down, following the path of her tattoos, all the way to her bare breasts. You grab the beltloops of her pants, pulling her towards you. She lets out a yelp that turns into a bubbly laugh as you sit back onto your heels, bringing her off of the couch and onto your lap. Her back presses to the edge of the couch as you begin to place open-mouthed kisses to the edge of her jaw and down the expanse of her neck, nipping at the skin as you go. A wispy moan falls from her lips as her head lolls back, giving you more room to attack her with kisses. Her fingers dig into your shoulders as she steadies herself, hips grinding down onto your lap.
You continue to pepper kisses down her throat, moving further down until you reach her tits, lips wrapping around one of her nipples as your fingers work to pinch the other neglected bud. Jinx whines at the contact, back arching, pushing herself further into you.
“Oh, fuck yeah, toots,” she laughs breathlessly, hips moving against your thigh in a rhythm that keeps pressure on her clit through her pants.
You release her nipple, a wet pop sounding out the action as you look up at her. You replace your mouth with your free hand, both now working at kneading the plush flesh. “You’re insatiable.” You mutter, listening for the change in her breathing as you tense the muscles of your thigh. Your hands glide down from her chest, finding their place on her hips, you halt her movements. She lets out a high whine, finally meeting your gaze.
You give her a quick peck, shushing her. You pat her hips, signalling for her to get up. “Take your pants off, baby.” Her arms rest on your shoulders, fingers fidgeting with the hair at the base of your neck. “Come on. Be a good girl.”
Her cheeks flush as she stands up. You stay seated below her, hands running along her thighs as she moves. Her nimble fingers work at the fastening of her pants before sliding the fabric down and off of her legs. You reach up, fingers hooking onto the waistband of her panties. Your eyes meet hers–oh boy is she gone, absolutely sent into orbit from the way you begin to slowly tug them down.
“Gonna ride my face, baby?” Her hands move to your head, using it to hold herself up. A strangled noise pushes past her teeth as the cool air of the room makes contact with her already slick cunt. Your grin widens as you watch her eyes squeeze shut from the exposure.
You help her step out of her panties, grabbing her hand as you move to lay flat, pulling her body down with you. You get comfortable, shifting your hips to press your spine flat against the rug beneath you. Jinx sits, straddling your ribcage. She gasps as her bare cunt presses onto your clothed chest, hips bucking in an attempt to gain the sweet friction she craves.
You grab her hips, “Nice try–” You laugh bitterly, bringing her hips up as you scoot down to where she’s hovering above you. You look up at her through hazy lids, “You know what to do”
She begins to lower herself, tossing her head back as you lean up to leave a kiss to her aching clit. She lets out an impatient groan as you stop her movements, growing frustrated with your antics.
“Oh, and do me a favor,” You rub soothing circles into her hips, trying to stop yourself from laughing at her desperation, “remind me what you were singing about earlier.” You blink up at her, fully aware of what she was spewing about on that stage just moments before she ended up a needy mess above you.
Her brows furrow, another pathetic whine falling from her lips as she tries to push herself down onto your face. Your grip on her tightens, fingertips pressing firmly into her hips.
“Come on, Jinx,” Your eyes narrow on her, hands moving to pinch her nipples between your fingers, “Sing it again for me.”
She looks down at you, utterly starstruck. Her voice is hoarse, rough from being stuck in her throat from the lack of friction she craves. “God, I feel so powerful when grinding on your face.”
You grin wildly, “atta girl.” You bring her hips down, tongue instantly pressing flat to part her folds. You let out a soft hum as her fingers thread through your hair, tugging at the roots.
A gasp leaves her lips as she tosses her head back, “Fuck, yes!”
You grasp at her thighs, helping her grind her hips down onto your face. You lap at the slick dripping from her hole, licking it up to suckle at her clit. She moans, your name falling from her lips like a prayer as her hips jerk against you.
Her grip on you tightens as you put more effort into your movements. You know she’s close–you have her teetering on the edge, ready to fall. Her thighs tremble as you lick at her cunt, tongue moving in tandem with the bucking of her hips.
“Oh–” She gasps, “Fuck! I’m so close.” Sweat begins to form at the base of her neck, trickling down her spine. You hold her trembling thighs, helping her stabilize as you give one last flick to her clit. She moans loudly as her orgasm crashes through her. You guide her through it, slowing your movements to a halt. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. You keep your hands on her hips as she moves off of you, moving to lay next to you on the floor.
You laugh softly, “You okay?”
She grins, “Never better.” She looks at you, eyes glazed over with a post-orgasmic haze.
You reach over to brush her hair from her sweaty forehead, “Guess you should write a song called ‘Floor Fucker’ next?”
jinx masterlist & main masterlist
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
origamiaround
kianamaiart
tangentwithtanner
jacobvanloon
