HUNTER’S INTRODUCTION, NAVIGATION, AND REQUEST GUIDELINES:
hi, i’m hunter. i love art, horror, romance, music, and women. anyway on to the reason you're here; below the divider you will find my request guidelines and navigation (including my masterlist and important tags) enjoy the reads.
requests are: open
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I only write for characters I know. I won’t write for characters from shows/movies that I have not watched cause the last thing I want to do is butcher a character that I’ve never even heard of. Good news is I watch a fuckton of shows and movies (feel free to recommend some)
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Hii, I wanted to know if youre going to update Suck it and see any time soon? More than anything because i LOVE it and want to know how it continues.
Hey! Thanks so much for this ask. It really means a lot knowing people enjoy my art. I just dropped the new chapter so have at it! And be ready for chapter 6 that’s when things really get interesting!! 🩷🩷
You didn’t stop running until you were at least a mile away passing a few police cars on the trip.
“Fuck, I left my bike.” Vinny huffed hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
The alcohol in your empty stomach had sloshed around to the point of nausea. The world tilted and you felt light and heavy all at once. You gagged once. Twice. Your skin was clammy and turning green.
You jogged toward a storm drain and dropped to your knees puking up the alcohol in your stomach as your head spun. Alex stood by brushing your hair away from your face as you heaved. She pulled her scrunchie off of her wrist and tied back your hair and rubbed your back until you finished.
Ozzy giggled as Billie swatted at him.
Vinny walked over to you as you finally finished heaving and sat back on your heels. He squeezed your shoulder affectionately pulling your gaze toward him. “Thanks for having my back in there.” He smiled. The cuts and bruises on his face were nothing new to him.
“Always.” You rested your hand on his before standing up and thanking Alex for taking care of you, which she brushed off.
A van came speeding down the rode the five of you were standing in Oz stepped onto the sidewalk as the van slid to an abrupt halt the backdoors opening to reveal Lorraine, Maxine, Jackson and Bobby-Lynne.
“Y'all want to ride?” Bobby-Lynne simpered and held one door open while Jackson held the other.
Your crew looked to you for confirmation and you shrugged and climbed into the van with your mates following suit. The only empty seat was next to Lorraine as everyone settled in. You let Alex take it as you sat on the floor of the dark van. You looked towards the front Wayne winked at you through the rearview mirror as the doors shut.
You leaned forward a bit more and sure enough RJ was in the passenger seat cradling his stomach as he glared out the window.
You sat back onto your butt as the vehicle began moving. It was silent for a moment. Your heart rate started to slow as your adrenaline wore off. You became acutely aware of your bruised ribs and collar. Then you felt it. Then and only then. You hissed and tugged at the back of your shirt, pulled it up and hissed again as you had to lean forward, pain shot up your spine. You heard a couple gasps behind you.
“Is it bad?” You asked Bobby-Lynne, unable to see the wounds you could feel.
You heard a gravelly chuckle leave Jackson’s lips as he answered for the blonde. “You’ve got glass in your back.”
Your eyes widened as your friends began to pressure you to turn so they could see. Chaos erupted in the back of the van. Voices talked over each other, as you went nearly rigid with panic. Vinny as well as Ozzy visibly cringed at the sight of your lacerated skin. Alex rolled her eyes and turned you towards her so she could get a good look at your back before mumbling a curse under her breath.
She sighed.
“Oh my god.” Lorraine muttered at the sight.
“Well don’t just sit there pull it out.” You commanded.
You thought for sure Alex would be the only one willing to do it. “Do you have a first aid kit?” She questioned Wayne who was more focused on the road unwilling to get another ticket this month.
Not more than a moment later Maxine leaned forward with a roll of her eyes she pinched the glass between her two fingers and tugged it out with precision. You clenched your jaw gasping through your nose as your back arched and not a second later warmth began to trickle down your spine. Stinging the wounds, A stray bottle of vodka. “Fuck.” You cursed as Maxine kept plucking out shard after shard until she figured she was done and cascaded a bit more alcohol down your shoulders, She left you alone with a kiss to your shoulder to ease the pain, shocking you. She tugged your black long sleeve back down. You sighed, your back still stinging.
“Thanks.”
“You owe me now.” she shrugged. You shifted to turn back around as Wayne drove off campus. Your gaze lingered on Lorraine who seemed to be at a loss for words. You sighed and rubbed at your jaw.
“Hey, can you drop us off at our place? It’s like five minutes from here.” Ozzy asked as he held Billie securely in his lap while she wiped at his bleeding scratches with her thumb.
“Yeah, no problem, I’m gonna need directions though.” Wayne smirked.
You pouted, your eyes grew heavy, your body grew tired. Your head felt light, you felt yourself fixing to crash, you swayed and when Wayne took a sharp turn you ended up hitting your head on the center console Your arm jutted out and grabbed on to the nearest support, which happened to be Lorraine’s calf. She stiffened at the contact, her cheeks heating up as her eyes shifted towards you. She took a minute to scan your face seeing how exhausted you looked as your eyes drifted falling closed before you crumpled on the van floor losing consciousness.
Monday…
You groaned as you walked through campus, your sneakers dragged against the concrete. You sipped a smoothie through a straw as you trudged toward your film studies class. Surely you’d perk up when you finally got to see Lorraine. Plus the class had free seating so if you got there quick enough you’d be able to sit near her. That thought motivated you to walk a little faster.
The ground had some residual wetness from the rain last night and your body had some residual aches from the party last Friday. Your back still in the process of healing as well as your ribs made it hard to take a deep breath without wincing in pain.
You pushed the door to the lecture hall open and scanned the classroom. You smirked as you walked down the stairs to catch a seat on the far end of the front row with a perfect view out of the window. And it was where Lorraine usually sat. You took a seat and took out your notebook and laptop, setting them on the desk as you set your smoothie on the floor next to you.
You smiled politely at the professor as he entered the lecture hall from his adjoined office Lorraine trailing behind clutching her textbooks and a few extra assignments. Her eyes locked on yours in an instant, her brows furrowing.
You smirked at her.
“I didn’t know you were in this class.” she commented as she made her way off the stage and up the steps to stand beside you.
Your eyes scanned her figure with intention, taking in her outfit a pair of regular fit jeans and a sage green T-shirt that clung to her perky breasts but floated around her slight waist, an oversized jacket draped on top, and her headphones resting around her neck. She cleared her throat.
“Glad to know my presence is so memorable to you.” You mumbled sarcastically as your eyes locked onto hers again. “You look good today.”
The brunette’s cheeks heated up in an instant at the compliment, her fingers twitching around her books as she hovered, eyeing you for a second too long. She watched you fan your legs open and shut as you sat, giddy in her seat with amusement laced through your features. She looked at you, really looked at you absorbing your features, your slender neck, the way your T-Shirt clung to you stretching around your shoulders and clinging to your breasts and waist like a second skin.
Her gaze then shifted to the subtle musculature of your arms. Then to your hair and how it flowed, perfectly framing your face. That intense gaze and those plump lips. She was beside herself, a heat pooling in her belly as she shifted her weight onto her other foot. “Thanks, I like your shirt.” She complimented back. “And your presence is memorable. I just… usually don’t see you around often, especially not in here, I would have noticed.”
“Yeah?” you grinned that stupid boyish grin at her subtle admittance and the implications it left you to ponder.
She blushed even harder. “How’s your back? And head. You kinda fainted on me the other night. Literally.”
You groaned in embarrassment as you scratched at your neck. “Ugh, I’m alright. I guess I was kind of exhausted.”
You smiled softly before sliding out of her seat, grabbing your things, stretching, and moving to the one just behind her. “There, now it’s warm for you.” You gestured to the seat. She smiled gratefully, her eyes low and her cheeks pink as she took the seat and settled in just as the bell rang signaling the last five minutes to get to class, students pouring in by the handful. She replayed you stretching in her head, the way your faded vintage t-shirt lifted slightly to reveal a peak of a tattoo and your abs, along with the way those jeans hung off your hips and clung to a certain bulge between your legs. She caught herself nibbling at her lip while running a piece of her hair through her fingers as her mind wandered. She was fascinated by you to say the least, the more she learned the more she wanted to know. A hunger settled in her psychological belly that told her she needed to consume every ounce of your mind, maybe your body too.
You caught a whiff of her jasmine shampoo and it made your entire body relax into the seat as you slouched and leaned forward.
“I heard you were coming with the girls and guys to help film this weekend, is that true?” You rasped in a whisper.
Lorraine shivered slightly and if you noticed you didn’t comment on it. She turned her head to the side, getting a peak at you through her peripheral. “Yeah, RJ said he needed hands so I figured I’d travel along.” She spoke softly, her accent thicker.
Her mind was preoccupied as it seemed to often be these days.
You nodded and pulled out your phone and shot a text to Bobby-Lynne.
You: I’m in.
Professor Rowe clapped his hands abruptly drawing the class’ attention as he began to take roll.
When class was over you walked out carrying Lorraine’s textbooks in one arm as you walked her to her marketing class.
“We should get lunch after this, if you’re free.” You suggested hopefully as you walked comfortably across campus.
“Sure that sounds good.” She smiled softly.
“What’s your favorite food?” You asked, trying to get to know the woman a bit more.
Lorraine hummed softly as she pondered your question as you neared the building her next lecture was in. “I like mexican food.” She answered, sounding unsure.
You nodded as you shifted her textbooks into your left hand to pull out your phone. “Okay.” You muttered letting her know you heard her as you looked up mexican food spots near you trying to find a good, quick service restaurant. “I actually make killer birria tacos. You should come by my place one day so I can cook for you.”
You looked up as the bell rang causing you to sigh. You handed her books over begrudgingly. Lorraine eyed you a second longer as she took the books from your arms with a small thank you. “I… don’t know if I should.” Lorraine muttered causing your eyebrows to furrow.
“What? Come by my house?”
Lorraine chewed on her lip avoiding your gaze as she nodded.
“Why not?”
“Well, RJ said that I shouldn't hang around you and your friends too much, he says you’re always getting into trouble…”
You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Listen, RJ is a pretentious prick.”
“And what are you?” Lorraine shot back defending her boyfriend.
You scoffed.
“Listen, I’ve seen the way you operate, jumping into fights without a second thought, sleeping with multiple women, at least RJ is reasonable, and loyal.”
“Oh my god, spare me. Your boyfriend is a coward and he’s only loyal cause you’re the only one attracted to that slimeball. What is loyalty without opportunity?”
Harsh, much too harsh.
“Please, you don’t even know him.”
“And you don’t know me.” You cut her off before chewing on your cheek.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea, okay.” The brunette tried to defuse your irritation, clutching her books tighter to her chest.
“You know, I never took you for the judgmental type.”
“I’m not.”
You chuckled dryly. “Oh, but you are… You better get to class, mouse. We can cancel the lunch. I should ask RJ for his permission first.”
Lorraine clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowed as her grip tightened around her books. “You’re being an ass.”
You hummed and narrowed your eyes at her before shrugging and turning on your heel strutting away with your hands shoved in your pockets seemingly unaffected. The petite latina sighed. she tugged open the door to her next lecture as you turned the corner leaving her behind.
She couldn’t figure out why she was so affected by you, and what you thought of her. And you couldn’t fathom why her opinion had to matter as much as it unfortunately did.
…
You sat in your car for lunch that day chewing on some fries with Alex next to you shoving a burger down her throat.
“So what happened after that?” Alex asked, her voice muffled by the mess of food in her mouth.
“I walked away.” You shrugged as you glared at your phone.
“Sheesh. I mean…” Alex trailed off. You tilted your head towards her.
“Don’t.”
Alex zipped her lips shut before she opened them again, talking over the half-chewed food in her mouth “Are you still gonna help them film?”
You chewed on your fries for a moment and shrugged. “Why not, I need the cash, plus I get to screw hot women.”
“You don’t think that that will make her feel some type of way? Maybe even reinforce what she said about your… habits.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t care what she thinks.”
You did.
“Whatever you say, cupcake.” Alex shook her head.
Just then there was a rap on your truck window and your eyes met Bobby-Lynne’s who was holding up a couple twenty dollar bills pinched between her index and middle finger. You sighed and unlocked the door gesturing to the backseat. When she climbed inside she leaned forward and pecked your cheek.
“Hey, sugar.”
“Hey, Lynne.” You greeted while Alex smiled at the blonde and waved.
You took the cash from her fingers and tucked it in your pocket pulling a small, iridescent pink baggie from your pocket. “Just for you, babes.” You reached back to hand her the baggie with a few buds, strawberry cream wraps, and a couple sweet treats tucked inside.
“You’re the sweetest.” She grinned, taking the bag and examining the contents inside. “What are y’all up to?”
Alex gulped down her burger and spoke up. “We’re gossiping.”
“I don’t gossip.” You immediately denied. Only for Alex to wave you off.
“Ooh! What are we talking about?” Bobby-Lynne perked up her fingers rubbing at your shoulder.
Alex looks to you as you sigh and shift your gaze out the window.
“Lorraine and this one got into it last period.”
“What did you do to that little girl?” Bobby-Lynne swatted at your shoulder causing a growl to rumble in your chest for a second.
“I didn’t do anything to her, and she ain’t little.” You argued.
“Lorraine doesn’t approve of Y/N’s lifestyle. And surprisingly she wasn’t shy to voice it.”
You flinched slightly as your back passenger door opened abruptly, Maxine peeking her head into the truck catching your tense gaze as you watched her climb in and shut the door behind her. “What are we talkin’ about?”
You groaned as Alex chuckled and rubbed your knee. She reiterated the topic for a second time.
“Oh, please that little church mouse doesn’t even know you, or your lifestyle.”
“She ain’t little.” You grumbled.
“The point is… She doesn’t know you. So who cares what she thinks.” Maxine continued.
You shrugged and bowed your head picking lint off your shirt.
“I think our little devil has a crush.” Bobby-Lynne observed. You rolled your eyes and smacked your lips.
“Keep talking and I’m gonna kick y’all out my car.” You threatened half-heartedly.
Bobby-Lynne cooed while Maxine rolled her eyes. “I don’t like her. She’s always staring.” Maxine sneered while looking at her nails.
“Oh, stop! I think she’s just sheltered. You of all people should know what that’s like.” Bobby-Lynne chided Maxine gently.
You sighed and turned to look out your window catching sight of the very topic of conversation. She seemed to be looking for someone as RJ chattered her ear off about something she obviously wasn’t keen on listening to.
“If you like her you should try to understand where she’s coming from.” Alex commented towards you. “Plus she obviously wasn’t raised around people like us.”
“People like us? “ You questioned as you glared steadfast at the petite brunette who was nodding along mindlessly to RJ with pursed lips.
“Well, I’m gay, You’re practically a pornstar, not to mention the fact that you have a dick despite being relatively feminine presenting, oh and you’re a drug dealer… plus you’re essentially an orphan. Girls like her, sweet southern belle, preacher’s daughter, are taught to frown upon pretty much everything you stand for. Give her some time to get used to you, I’m sure she’ll come around.” Alex comforted.
“And if she doesn’t?” You muttered dejectedly.
“And if she doesn’t, I’ll be sure to put on an extra good show while we are filming so she knows just what she’s missing out on.” Bobby-Lynne smiled cheerfully before leaning forward and pecking your cheek again. “I have to get going. Jackson is gonna throw a fit if he doesn’t get a taste of this before lunch is over.” With that Bobby-Lynne propped open her door bending at the hips, surely flashing onlookers with how short her miniskirt was, and blew you a kiss before shutting the door with a thud and tucking the pink baggie into her cleavage with a wink.
You inhaled sharply through your nose as the sound of the car door shutting drew Lorraine’s attention. You watched as she watched Bobby-Lynne leave what she knew was your truck. Her eyes shifted to the Driver’s window but the glass was tinted. She sighed softly. You felt like she was staring straight at you though you knew it was pretty impossible for her to see you through the tint on your windows.
“I’m not putting on a show, playboy so you better fuck me like you mean it if you want to impress her.” Maxine shrugged before leaning forward and stealing one of your fries only to step out of the car and pop it in her mouth. “I’ll see you this weekend!” She called as she strutted away passing Lorraine with a glare as she chewed on the fry.
“Dude, how are those even considered shorts?” Alex commented. that caused your gaze to shift to Maxine’s ass as she walked, her cheeks peeking out of her daisy dukes. You shook your head.
With that you took a deep breath snatching your phone off the dash before climbing out of your truck and slamming the door behind you. You wrapped around the vehicle purposefully avoiding Lorraine’s gaze as you let Alex out of the passenger seat, holding the door for her. You trailed after the honey-blonde as she started walking towards the quad. You chanced a glance up and upon meeting Lorraine’s gaze you looked away shifting your gaze to RJ who was already glaring at you. You smirked and nodded in his direction before running a hand through your hair and turning your attention back to Alex tossing an arm over her shoulder.
“Dude, I know you aren’t using me to make her jealous right now.”
You chuckled. “Oh, I’m totally not. just trying my damndest to get under her skin.”
Alex rolled her eyes before wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning into your touch as the two of you walked. “Fine. But only cause you bought lunch.”
You shrugged and entered the quad ready for your screenwriting class.
You patted the spot next to you as you stared up at Lorraine. She eyed the cement cautiously before sitting next to you a few feet away. You chuckled at the distance she forced between the two of you but made no move to get closer as you turned and brought your knees up with your ankles crossed your elbows locking them into place as you held your wrist with one hand. “Where are you from?” You asked.
Lorraine’s eyes widened at that before her eyes darted to her cowboy boots. “Houston. I only left for school.” her accent was prominent at the mention of her home.
“So you like it out there?” You asked as you eyed her.
Lorraine shrugged. “It’s home. It’s familiar.”
You hummed. “Well, I’m from here, Austin.”
Lorraine nodded at the new information, Though she didn’t need it she deduced you were from here just by the unavoidable slow drawl you had when you were relaxed into the conversation.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you tilted your head back to look at the sky, it had rained in the days leading up to this party so the smoke cleared up enough to see the bright stars in the clear sky, though the streetlamp that lit up the highpoints of your face made your jawline appear even sharper than it was and Lorraine’s eyes were drawn to it taking in your every feature and freckle as you awed at the stars above you.
“Do you always stare this much?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly and let your eyes fall back on the brunette. Lorraine looked down at that playing with her fingers before they came up to twiddle with the cross around her neck.
You sighed and tilted your head back up towards the stars. “Swallow.” You broke the silence seconds later. “I can’t see another way, we are born into feeling blue, just tell me I’m burning out. I know every word is true.” you sang your voice raspy and cracking as Lorraine hung on your every word her racing heart slowing at the soothing tone of your voice.
“Older and older the voice of wasted youth has never been so loud, over and over like powder in the barrel pushing deeper down.” You cleared your throat tilting your head down towards the earth glaring at your shoes. “Give up, swallow it whole, let go. Swallow it all come on. Swallow it all.” Your voice wavered this time from emotion and Lorraine could see as much, her heart ached for you, her mind wondered about you, about your past, about your future, about what was running through your head, here in the present that had you so choked up.
“And now rise and now repeat, ‘we deserve everything we own.’ The long road to transience the tightrope between our bones,” You clenched your jaw and coughed to relieve the tension in your throat before you sighed and turned to gaze at Lorraine who held your gaze this time.
“Every other step is met with vicious eyes. Strangers and lo—”
“Lorraine! What are you doing?”
Your head whipped over to the interruption and you chewed on your cheek at the sight of a sweaty and flushed RJ. A red solo cup wasin his hand as he glared at you narrowing his eyes before grabbing the woman by her dainty wrist and dragging her up and away from you as if you were a poisonous plant. You rolled your eyes and stood up dusting your jeans off as he rambled in Lorraine’s face about something. You brushed past him purposefully as you headed up to the front door. He muttered a curse under his breath as he stumbled and glared after you.
You re-entered the party smirking as a girl you were familiar with, Riley, greeted you at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Hey, rockstar! Your set was amazing!” She swayed on her feet slightly stumbling into you as some frat boy brushed past her. You glared in his direction before she cupped your cheeks drawing your attention back to her. “A group of us were about to play Truth or Dare, you up for it?” She asked hopefully as her thumbs caressed your face.
“Sure, Let me grab a drink first.” You go to stepped away before you were dragged back in by your face, a cup of spiked punch being held over your shoulder by those same red nails from earlier you tilted your head back and bent at the knees opening your mouth for her to pour the drink down your throat.
You took it all down before wiping the excess from the corner of your lips and turned to Bobby-Lynne who was beaming at you cheering and hooking her arm in yours before Riley began dragging you toward the den where multiple people were sitting in a circle including Lorraine, RJ, Maxine, Jackson, Ozzy, Alex, and Vinny. Wayne was also there but he was ranting about how he was too old to participate in such childish games and you agreed. You couldn’t fathom how or why the professor was even allowed to be here with Maxine, his student, in his lap. But you looked the other way. As did most of the people here.
You sat down on the floor resting your back between Bobby-Lynne’s legs as she played with your hair. You leaned your head into her lap as you rested your hand on Riley’s thigh stroking it as Bobby explained the rules. Essentially if you didn’t do the dare or answer the question you had to drink one shot for the question and two for the dare.
Lorraine was next to RJ who was glaring at you for some odd reason. Though your gaze was on Lorraine’s legs you couldn’t help but stare at the perfectly tanned skin. “Alright, I’ll start us off.” Jackson shrugged, reaching for the empty wine bottle in the middle of the rug and spinning it. It spun for awhile before landing on Oz.
He sipped his beer as he shifted Billie out of his lap as Jackson asked him Truth or Dare. “Dare.” he slurred easily.
“I dare you to make out with the hottest girl in here.” Jackson shot.
Oz smirked before turning to Billie and meeting her lips in a heated make out, the kiss was sloppy and wet and you had to look away in disgust as tongues began to be swallowed.
“I’ll spin for him.” You mumbled as their kiss didn’t break. You leaned forward letting your arm fall from it’s resting place and spun the bottle. it spun for a few seconds before landing on Jackson. “Truth or Dare?”
Jackson pondered as he sipped straight from a bottle of hennessy. “Dare.” You rolled your eyes.
after a few seconds of pondering you smirked mischievously as Vinny passed you the half-empty bottle of jack daniels. you took a swig of the honey flavored whiskey before taking hold of Bobby-Lynne’s ankle and removing her pink heel from one foot pouring a cap full of whiskey on the limb before gesturing towards it with a daring look in your eye as you moved away from your position between her legs settling into the space between Delilah’s. “Lick it off.”
Bobby giggled as Jackson crawled forward and took her ankle in his hand and Licking the Whiskey from her foot with a flat tongue as the group seemed to rile up RJ leaning forward to watch the act with intensity.
Your eyes drifted to Lorraine as you ignored the wet smacking and sucking sounds to your right. Delilah’s fingers caressed your neck wrapping around it as you held Lorraine’s gaze an unrecognizable look in your eyes before letting your attention be drawn away by Delilah’s gentle tilt of your chin upwards as she leaned forward and placed her lips on yours effectively making out with you upside down while her fingers stroked over your neck she tasted of weed and tequila and it was intoxicating as you laved your tongue over hers.
You pulled away when you heard the bottle spinning again your lips swollen and wet, your eyes half-lidded as your gaze fell back on Lorraine’s whose eyes were now locked intensely on the bottle that landed on you.
You chuckled. “Truth.”
Jackson smirked mischievously. “Tell the truth, how many people at this party have you slept with?” He asked purposely stirring the pot.
You lolled your head back into Riley’s lap as Oz, Vinny, Alex, and Bobby-Lynne snorted. You held up the bottle of Jack and pressed it to your lips gulping a few times feeling light in the head as Jackson ‘booed’ and gave you a thumbs down.
You shrugged and spun the bottle on the rug. It slowed to a stop on RJ. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare.” He replied with a slur. You sighed and inhaled deeply.
“I dare you to… show Lorraine your search history.” You smirked devilishly.
His eyes widened as he nearly choked on his beer.
“What?! Dude, no!”
You raised your eyebrows, a smug look taking over your face as he sputtered out his denial. you leaned back into delilah tilting your head back as you chuckled mischievously.
“Well, what’s in your search history?” Lorraine softly asked. The southern lilt in her voice was prominent as ever as she leaned forward to eye RJ holding his phone out of reach tucking it into his pocket as he leans forward to grab the bottle of Hennessy from jackson and tossing his head back as he swallows down a couple of big gulps.
You smirk as he goes green in the face before he can even set the bottle down. Next thing you know he’s clambering over people to get to the restroom so he can puke everything that went down, back up.
Ozzy was dying of laughter while leaning forward to punch your shoulder.
Lorraine looked slightly concerned and she was chewing on her thumb nail. She stopped biting her finger and leaned forward to spin the bottle. You gulped as it landed on you, you sat up straighter.
“Truth or dare?” Lorraine asked with a daring look in her eye.
You held her gaze pondering her question. “Truth.” You answered with your voice wavering.
She rolled her eyes before she leaned back in her seat only to lean forward again a moment later. “Tell the truth, what made you want to study film.
Oz trilled his lips and leaned back into Billie mumbling, “Boring,” under his breath.
Your gaze shot to him glaring harshly as you clenched your jaw. “Shut up, asshole.” You chided before turning your attention back to Lorraine. “Uh, why does anyone study film? I love movies and I want to be apart of making them.”
“Honey, if that were the case you would’ve never went to college.” Bobby-Lynne teased
“Yeah, from what I’ve heard you’ve been making movies since you turned eighteen.” Jackson chuckled.
“You’ve made movies?” Lorraine perked up her gaze never leaving yours even as snorts and chuckles erupted around the room.
You couldn’t help the way your lips quirked up as Delilah ran her fingers through your hair tugging slightly at the strands as she separated the tangles in your curls. “Uh…” You trailed off.
“What kind of films do you make?” Lorraine pressed. Her gaze lingered on the hispanic woman’s fingers running through your hair.
Riley buried her face in Bobby-Lynne’s neck as she laughed at the innocence of the latina.
Ozzy cackled out loud, and you, for once, became a bit timid as you sighed, eyeing the bottle of jack as you chewed on your cheek.
“What is everyone laughing for?”
Alex sighed softly before patting Lorraine’s knee and meeting your gaze, a soft look in her eye, offering to bail you out. You nodded in her direction and she leaned up on her knees before climbing into the spot on the sofa that RJ once occupied. “They make…” Alex paused trying to figure out how to word it. “...adult films.”
You pursed your lips into a tight smile as Lorraine looks from Alex to you with wide eyes. Bobby-Lynne perks up. “They’re good at ‘em too.” Bobby-Lynne winked teasingly at the petite brunette as Riley lifts her face out of the pale woman’s neck and nods approvingly at the comment.
“Is that right?” Lorraine asked you as her gaze shifted between the two women behind you who seemed to be in on something that Lorraine hadn’t had the chance to experience. Her eyes fell back on you expectantly.
“I’m decent.” You shrugged nonchalantly, though deep down you were vibrating with anxiety.
“Don’t be humble.” Riley teased as she ruffled your hair. “They are well past decent.”
Bobby nodded along as she eyed the latina curiously watching her reaction, noticing the way Lorraine shifted forward in her seat. “Especially with their tongue,” the bleach blonde added on— her thighs clenching at the memory.
“Mhm, they have this thing they–”
“Wait.” Lorraine shut her eyes, shaking her head as she tried to process the information. “You two have…” she trailed off as she pointed between Bobby-Lynne and you.
You shut your eyes and bowed your head, your hair falling in your face to shadow your features as the two women behind you laid your cards on the table.
“Oh, doll. Not just me, her too.” Bobby gestured to Riley who was subtly rubbing your thigh soothingly with her bare foot.
You peaked through your hair trying to catch Lorraine’s reaction as Ozzy kicked at your boot.
Maxine smirks, “Look they’re getting all shy over there. ‘Woe is me my little church mouse knows I’m a good fuck.’” She mocked your sulking.
You groaned.
“Alright, alright. Leave ‘em alone.” Alex defended standing up and moving over to spin the bottle.
You watched the vodka bottle spin as you kept your head down, an unpleasant feeling burning in your chest. It spun for a handful of seconds as the snickers and laughs died down before you sighed and rose to your feet stretching your long legs. “This is boring. I’m out.” You trashed before walking off towards the kitchen. You stepped over a few people and brushed past a few more as you headed straight for the bar, snatching a fresh bottle of whiskey off the counter and uncapping it. you tossed it back and gulped it down with practiced ease loving the burn down your throat that settled in the pit of your stomach with each gulp. You figured alcohol poisoning rather embarrassing so you set the bottle down and wiped at your lips with your sleeve tossing your head back and leaning against the bar.
“Hey, you okay?” You couldn’t envision that soft tone belonging to anyone else.
“I’m alright Lorraine.”You sighed running a hand through your hair before looking down at the dainty brunette. “Are you?”
“I’m fine.” The latina hesitated. “I was worried about you.” She scanned your face, her eyes soft and full of concern, her fingers twitching at her sides.
You chuckled dryly. “Worried?”
Lorraine nodded.
You hummed at that eyeing the brunette intensely. “Aren’t you a sweet little thing?”
The Latina looked taken aback, her eyes widening as her cheeks heated up. She opened her mouth to speak as she took a step backwards.
“I’m not little.”
You smirked and shook your head at her petulant response. “Okay, You’re not little.”
Lorraine, used to being teased about her short stature and soft features perks up at the respect you grace her with, something she doesn’t get shown often. In fact the look in your half-lidded eyes spoke for itself. Nothing behind them but amusement, admiration. Your gaze was intense and unwavering as you smirked that boyish smirk.
“Are you staring at my lips?” You asked, rather abruptly.
Lorraine looked away for a moment, her cheeks heating up even further. “You have a nice smile.” she whispered beneath her breath.
You tilted your head as you eyed her, unable to hear what she mumbled. “Huh?”
Lorraine met your gaze hesitantly, her lips falling open just about to respond when you heard glass shatter and raised voices as well as a few shrill squeals, the only thing missing…
“Fight!” You heard Ozzy bellow. Your eyes widened as you dropped the bottle on the counter and rushed towards the living room.
You pushed through the crowd of people and seen Ozzy and Vinny throwing volatile punches at a couple of frat boys as the women moved out of the way you pressed forward at the sight of vinny leaking blood from his cheekbone and a cut on his nose as he was tugged away from one frat boy by another. You lunged forward with your hands shaking until you clenched them into fists and jumped over the frat boy on the floor to get to the one who was wailing on Vinny. You cocked your fist back without a second thought landing a heavy jab to the guy’s jaw. everything and everyone else faded into the background as you fought alongside your boys.
You were tackled to the floor, the crunch of glass heard under the frat boy’s sneakers as he threw punch after punch at your chest and collar. You blocked your face with your forearms and shifted your weight wiggling under the punches raining down on your body, good news you couldn’t feel a thing, bad news, you’d feel it tomorrow.
The man was visibly nearly double your weight and his punches were heavy but sloppy and slow. You managed to free your leg from his straddling position and locked it over his before doing the same with the other locking your legs behind his knees before shifting your weight effectively flipping your positions with a practiced torque of your hips. You took advantage of the shift and began throwing heavy punches at his face until blood was smeared across your fists and splattered across your clothes and face. Next thing you know you are being tugged off the guy and falling back to the floor once again as Vinny steps in to kick at the guy's rib cage. Alex helps you up by your armpits. You thank her and go to lunge at the guy who looked ready to smash a glass bottle over Ozzy’s head.
You snatched the bottle from his hand.Just as the sound of sirens pierced your ears. “Police!” You yelled. Oz and Vinny jumped up and gathered their things as well as their women and pushed through the crowd to run out the backdoor. You looked around for a second and caught sight of Lorraine under Bobby-Lynne’s arm as Alex tugged at your wrist. Pulling you towards the exit.
Lorraine caught your gaze, her eyes wide and dark. “I’ll text you!” You yelled towards her before turning and running off with Alex as your guide.
It was loud, unbearably so. You were setting up in the backyard of the sorority house your group was performing at. Your head ached as usual and Lorraine was nowhere in sight. You sighed audibly as you got comfortable on the stage. Alex clasped a hand over your shoulder noticing your grave expression and furrowed brows. “Your head?” she asks and you nod. The Honey-Blonde gives you puppy eyes and a pout. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” you mumble.
You clear your throat before addressing the crowd of people that gathered. Your black jeans hung off your hips uncomfortably and your skin tight black long sleeve did nothing to hide your rock hard nipples from the slight chill. Your hair was slick with gel and you had that signature smirk on your face as you gripped the mic. “How’s everyone feeling tonight?” You asked into the mic.
Cheers and ‘hoots’ erupted from the sorority girls as well as the frat boys. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Alright, these are my band mates. That pretty girl over there is Alex, she’s our bassist.” You pointed to Alex who was stage right. She grinned and waved at the crowd as they cheered. “The stud on the drums is Vinny.” The cheers grew as Vinny flipped his drumsticks around and settled onto his stool. “The smoke show to my left is our guitarist Ozzy, Say hi to the ladies Ozzy Boy.” You encouraged.
“Hey Ladies.” Ozzy drawled down his microphone. The women in the crowd cheered and squealed, making you roll your eyes.
“And well, some of you already know me, those of you who don’t have heard of me. My name is Y/N and I obviously do vocals.”
“You do a lot more than vocals!” Your eyes narrowed slightly as you scanned the crowd to see who shouted that out. That’s when your eyes locked on Bobby-Lynne.
You chuckled into the mic husky and confident. “I do, don’t I? I know there’s some ladies in here who can vouch for me.”
A few women and a couple sorority girls cheered at that. Your eyes scanned the crowd near Bobby-Lynne who was moving towards the front. Maxine trailing after her looking bored to say the least. You figured Lorraine wouldn’t be bold enough to be front and center so your eyes wandered to the back and sure enough you caught those pretty brown eyes already on you.
“Anyway, we are Swallow and this first song is called Ambrosia. I hope you like it.” You held Lorraine’s gaze talking to her specifically but keeping it general enough that you didn’t give anything away.
“One, Two, Three, Four.” Vinny Muttered down the mic.
[Ambrosia by siaynoq]
Ozzy got straight into a distorted guitar riff that blended with the cheers in the crowd. It wasn’t long before you came in with your seductive soft vocals to draw everyone in. Alex strumming her bass as you took over the stage.
“Paralyzed without your grace. How you wound me when you're away.” You tilted your hips forward as you tucked your chin slightly to sing while your eyes scanned the crowd. The cheap LEDs buzzed as they lit up your skin in silky indigo hues before fading into a more vibrant blue.
“Bleeding out into a crimson lake. Your voice helps to resuscitate.”
Yellows, oranges, reds fused beyond your eyes.
Ozzy and Vinny took over for the hook singing into their microphones, “Just a taste, Just one taste! Of Ambrosia!”
“So heed patronage at the altar on my lips.” You dangled the microphone above your head tilting your head back and running your fingers down from your bottom lip dragging all the way to your pelvis.
“Pull you in, rejuvenate. Cause there’s nectar in your taste.”
Ozzy and Vinny belted the hook into their microphones once again.
Vinny smashed his sticks against the drums aggressively carrying the tempo, his foot stuttering at speeds you couldn’t comprehend on the kick drum.
Pink washed over you. “Nectar on my lips. Nectar on my lips, Nectar on my lips!”
Ozzy took over for a smooth guitar solo followed by you and Alex harmonizing over the hook only to be trailed immediately by Ozzy and Vinny Belting the same lines.
You drew air into your lungs and bent at the hips cupping the microphone in your palm holding it to your lips as you screamed, “I just wanna taste, I just wanna taste!” Like a starved animal you scratched your vocal chords. “I just wanna taste, I just wanna taste!”
All as Vinny, Alex, and Ozzy continued the chorus on top of you. The lights faded to a sinister red as the song concluded.
…
When your set was finished you jumped off stage your voice raspier than ever from the five songs you just finished the House mother thanked you with a swift kiss to the cheek and a bottle of jack. You took a swig before passing the bottle off to Vinny as you wiped the sweat from your face with a towel she handed you. “Thanks.” You grinned energetically before she went off to do god knows what with some frat boy.
You leaned against the wall of the house as your bandmates chattered among themselves and pulled out a joint from behind your ear.
You searched your pockets for a lighter and huffed in exasperation before a lighter was flicked alight inches from your face startling you slightly as you stared at the ruddy fingertips wrapped around the pink playboy lighter the nails painted red. You leaned forward and let the end of the hand-rolled cigarette catch as you inhaled before rasping out a thank you as your eyes trailed along the arm. “No problem, playboy.” Bobby-Lynne smirked. “You were on fire tonight! I didn’t know you could sing like that.” The bleach blonde praised as she eyed you.
you smirked, removing the cigarette from your lips scissored between your fingers. “I didn’t either.” you chuckled a small puff of smoke billowing through the air before you pursed your lips and exhaled as Bobby-Lynne watched with a heated gaze.
“Don’t tell me that was all for the little church mouse.” Maxine smirked, taking the spliff from your fingers and leaning next to you on the wall. Your eyes took in her features, mousy brown hair, deep blue eye shadow that matched her blue tube top, a denim mini skirt and a pair of platform sandals on her feet. brown eyes but not woodsy brown like Lorraine’s or maybe it was the lighting.
You shrugged in response to her taking the joint back after she took a hit. Her pink lip gloss smudged on the end of it. you go to bring the joint to your lips only to have it plucked from your fingers by Bobby-Lynne leaning against the back of the house to the right of you. She took a deep hit before passing it back.
Your eyes narrowed. “What do the two of you want?” you asked suspiciously as you took a hit from the lipstick stained joint. Maxine rolled her eyes at you as Bobby-Lynne just simpered. “Whatever it is the answer is no.” you stated confidently.
Bobby’s grin widened at that. “Oh, yeah?” She asked, her voice teasingly seductive as her fingers walked up your arm through the sheer material of your shirt.
Maxine trailed her fingers across the skin peaking through the bottom of the slightly cropped long sleeve. You shivered as you felt your length respond, twitching in your tight jeans.
“We didn't even ask for anything yet.” Maxine whined.
You glared at her before passing the joint back to her. “go.” you commanded vapidly.
Maxine coughed slightly as she reached across you to hand the half-gone joint to bobby-lynne.
You felt your mind grow lighter and your eyelids grow heavier as you stared at bobby-lynne’s Pink lips wrapped around the spliff, she was wearing a pink bustier with a matching denim skirt as well as knee high boots. Maxine was the first to speak. “We want you to star in a porno we’re filming in Houston next week.”
You rolled your eyes as you took the joint from Bobby-Lynne and shut your eyes. “Why me?” You asked exhausted from this conversation already.
“Why not?” The two women said in unison.
You hit the joint before passing what was left of it to Maxine with a clench of your jaw. “It’s not like you have anything better to do, plus Wayne said he’ll pay you a couple hundred just to show up and help with production, and he’ll meet your price if you perform.” Bobby-Lynne listed the benefits. She took the small spliff and hit it one more time before dropping it to the concrete and smashing it under her boot.
You groaned and stepped away from the wall and the women’s wandering hands. “Y/N?” a soft voice called out to you, your heart racing as you watched the petite brunette approach you, you gulped at the sight of her, your eyes widening slightly as you took in what she wore. a flannel over a pair of denim shorts (there’s no way the women didn’t coordinate their outfits) and a crop top with a pair of cowboy boots on her feet.
“Lorraine.” you muttered.
“Hey, we were having a conversation.” Maxine cut in. “Are you gonna help us film or not?” She paused waiting for your reply as you just stared at Lorraine who looked between the two women with narrowed eyes.
“film?” Lorraine asked her eyes on Bobby-Lynne.
The blonde waved the girl off before taking Maxine's hand.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” you asked the brunette as you eyed her.
Lorraine shrugged.
Bobby-Lynne called your name in a sing song voice and you turned to glare at her at which she rolled her eyes. giving you a demanding look. “ugh, fine I’ll think about it. Now can I enjoy my night? please.” you asked rhetorically. Bobby-Lynne smiled brightly as she took Maxine’s hand and dragged her away.
You turned back to Lorraine, your eyes softening in an instant. “Hi.” you muttered with a soft smile as you gazed down at her.
“Hi. Um you never texted me.” Lorraine addressed nervously.
Your eyes widened. “If I had known you’d be waiting for it I would’ve texted you. That’s my bad.”
Lorraine nodded.
“Your set was amazing.” she complimented playing with her fingers.
Your face lit up, “You think so?”
“Yeah, you did great.” Lorraine met your gaze for a second before looking away.
you stood in comfortable silence before sighing. “You want to go somewhere quieter?” You asked.
She nodded slightly. you held out your hand and she took it. You hummed contently at the warmth that flowed over you, it was a lot like the feeling of alcohol warming your stomach as it goes down your throat except there were giddy tingles shooting up your arm at the contact. You carefully guided her through the crowd of people and around the side of the house, you opened the gate and held it with one hand as she trailed after you before letting it swing shut. You sighed as you walked down the driveway and came to a stop away from all the music that the walls vibrated with you turned toward Lorraine.
“I promised you a song.” You rasped, your voice cracking on a couple words due to the smoke and the strain.
Lorraine’s cheeks heated up at the sound of it as she tugged her hand away feeling the cold breeze blow through her clammy palm. “Yeah.” she mumbled as she swiped her palm on her flannel as you swiped yours on your jeans before sitting on the cement of the driveway, your chunky heel scuffing against the ground.
You hummed absentmindedly into the microphone as you warmed your voice up your guitar hanging by the elaborate guitar strap, the material digging into your cotton clad shoulder. Your mind racing with thoughts of a certain brunette.
“Dude you should’ve seen them. It’s like Fabio jumped into their body and said the most smooth line.” Vinny bragged to Alex, the bassist.
Alex smiled proudly. “It’s about time.” You rolled your eyes and flipped the girl off before she settled behind her microphone.
“Seriously though, dude. Good job.” Ozzy clasped his hand over your shoulder with a grin. “If you took too long I was gonna have to swoop in and get her away from that amish freak.”
You cringed at the insult that left Ozzy’s mouth.
“Wait, I thought he was Mormon." Alex muttered, her voice flowing through the speakers as she set up her mic.
“Dude isn’t anything but a pretentious little freak.” You mumbled into the mic before immediately going back to humming only to pause a second later turning to look at the drummer with scrunched brows. “And how could he be Amish if he’s a film major? Isn’t technology supposed to be like the devil to them?”
Oz shook out his shaggy hair before shrugging as Alex shifted, and brushed her honey-blonde hair away from her face, flipped her baseball cap backwards before grabbing her bass tapping each string to make sure it was tuned as Oscar did the same with his guitar strings and Vinny adjusted the placement of his drums. Somehow even though they were never moved they were also never quite in the right position.
You sigh and grip the mic on its stand as you stare at the garage door, a tapestry of Kurt Cobain stared back at you.
“Mascara.” You muttered the song title into the mic so your band knew what song to start playing. When everyone settled in you began singing as Alex plucked the strings of her bass before the drums and guitar came in for the pre chorus.
You took a sip of water as the instrumental played out as the song ended. “Oz, can you put a bit more sustain on your amp right quick?” You asked and Ozzy nodded, reaching down to his amp and twisting the dial.
You smiled thankfully as he played a few chords and looked to you for approval.
When practice was over you headed upstairs to your bedroom to finish some coursework and study. Your headache only grew worse the longer you stared at page after page of text. A soft knock on your door lured your attention away from your PC. “Come in!” You called out.
Alex popped her head in, her eyes scanning your hunched over frame. “How’s your head?” she asked in a whisper to not irritate your migraine further.
“Not any better, but I’m coping… What’s up?” You smiled.
She handed you a bag of fast food and a couple pain pills before passing you a can of coke. “Awe shit, thank you, Alexis.” You leaned your head back into her stomach from your position in your chair as a form of affection. “You’re the best.”
“Dude, Why do you still call me that?” She asked with a roll of her eyes as she ruffled your hair.
“Cause no one else does.” You shrugged and opened the bag of fast food snatching a fry and popping it in your mouth before cracking open the can of soda.
“Right, I have a favor I need to ask you.” She admitted going to sit on the edge of your bed before hesitating opting to sit on the futon, a designated safe space from the activities of your job.
“What’s up?”
“I need a ride to the library, I’m meeting Bea for a study date.” You sigh as you toss the pills into your mouth and sip your soda to swallow them down.
“Sure thing, let me finish eating and I’ll drop you off.”
“Sweet!” Alex smiled brightly, her cheeks plump and rosy. Her golden skin glowed in the streak of sunlight peeking through your blackout curtains.
“She still not giving you the time of day?” You ask as you bite into your burger and eye the smitten girl as she sits criss-crossed on your charcoal futon.
She shrugged happily. “She loves me, and she shows it. That’s all that matters.”
You hum as you smirk softly at the drummer. “When is she gonna come meet us?” You ask as you stuff a couple fries into your mouth.
“She’s a bit anxious around new people so I want to take it slow and try not to scare her off.”
You hummed in acknowledgement. “I get that, especially with Ozzy sniffing around.”
Alex snorted as she watched you shut off your computer and grab your fry container and car keys before holding the door open for her. “Please. Bea wouldn’t even look in his direction.”
You headed down the stairs with Alex bounding down in front of you.
“She’s a keeper then.” You mumble before climbing into the driver’s seat and unlocking the doors, sitting your fries in the cup holder.
Alex glanced over your outfit, just some shorts that cover a little less than half of your thighs, a tank top and an oversized hoodie. up top your hair was messy as usual. “She is.” She mumbled as you pulled off onto the road driving with one hand— eating fries with the other.
When you got to the campus a few minutes later you climbed out and walked with Alex to the library, for no particular reason besides the fact that you hadn’t been in there since they asked you for four hundred dollars to rent a textbook.
By chance or by fate when you opened the library doors, your eyes scanned the building and its two different floors. Your eyes found Lorraine, a pair of headphones fixed over her ears as she had her nose buried in her film textbook before her eyes darted to her laptop and for once she was alone.
Alex bid you goodbye as she rushed off to Bea in the adjacent corner of the library that your feet carried you to. You went to say ‘hi’ but hesitated knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear you over the sound of her music so you sat across from her.
You watched her pen still on the page as her eyes slowly drew upwards her cheeks grew red as her eyes scanned from your veiny hands to your face not missing a single detail in between.
Lorraine pulled her headphones down to rest around her neck the buzzing sound of Pink Floyd whirring in the air. She brushed her hair behind her ears and set her pen down. “Can I help you?” She asked, unable to meet your gaze.
You smiled softly. “Hi, funny seeing you here.” you spoke just above a whisper.
“I come here basically every other day.” She informed.
“Good to know.” you nodded slowly as the conversation fell flat. Clearing your throat, you relaxed back into your seat more as your leg bounced under the table anxiously.
“What you studying?”
“Something for my History of Film class.” Lorraine answered quickly.
“Yeah?”
She hummed affirmatively.
“Are you always this shy?” You asked, spread your legs as you slouch in your seat, your knees brushing hers under the table.
The brunette rolled her eyes before glaring at you. “I’m not shy.” She argued in a mumble.
“Sure. Timid is more like it. Are you always this timid?” You teased with a playful smirk while you fanned your legs back and forth, your knee brushing hers consistently now. You tilted your head as she went to bring her headphones back over her ears. “Wait. I’m just teasin’. But you said you come here every other day… why?”
“To study, duh.” She replied with a roll of her eyes as she paused the video playing softly from her laptop.
“No shit. I mean, I see you around and you’re always studying so why study here after class? Why not head back to your dorm?” You asked, leaning your elbows on the table and clasping your hands together as you tilted your head curiously.
Lorraine’s gaze darted away from her book, to the table, to her laptop, to the wall behind your head then to your clasped hands settling there. “Cause, RJ is my ride and he’s filming something so he can’t give me a ride back until later.”
Her accent seemed heavier and her cheeks grew warmer. You could see her blushing hard. You knew RJ’s work. Only because You worked with Bobby-Lynne once in a blue moon. “Hmm… Grab your stuff, I'll give you a ride back.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Lorraine met your gaze nervously running her eyes up and down your frame as you rose to your feet and stretched causing your hoodie to ride up and give her a peak of your abs and the V-line leading down to the bulge of your pelvis. You reached down and tugged your shorts down a bit to cover more of your legs. A thigh tattoo stood out against your skin, a one-liner that the film major recognized. “The truth of a thing is the feel of it, not the think of it.” Lorraine read.
You looked down at her before looking at your thigh with a chuckle. “Stanley Kubrick.” You acknowledged before picking up her notebook and sliding it into her textbook to mark the page before shutting it.
“I didn’t know you were a film major.” She muttered as her eyes lit up.
“Then I guess you have a lot to learn about me. Come on.” You gestured with your head towards the exit as you walked away with her textbook giving her no choice but to follow you. She quickly shut her laptop and tucked it into her tote bag before rushing after you.
You held the door for her as you walked out to the parking lot.
“I assumed you did music production since you’re in a band and all.”
You smirked and shrugged. “Nope. I thought about it but I taught myself how to mix and engineer audio by senior year of highschool.”
You smiled down at the petite girl.
“Hmm, so your music is on all platforms I’m assuming.”
You nod easily as you tug open the passenger door. Lorraine climbs into the boxy, old Ford and shuts her door. You get in the driver’s seat and hand her her textbook.
“‘M gonna need directions.” You mutter as you start the truck and begin driving, one hand on the steering wheel.
“Of course.” Lorraine gives you instructions to her dorm as you drive in a comfortable silence.
“So… how long have you and RJ been seeing each other?” You asked cautiously not wanting to give your feelings away.
Lorraine’s eyes widened for a second before she straightened up in her seat. “A little over a year.” She shrugged as she stared out the window. “Turn left up here.”
You switched lanes skillfully before stopping at the red light taking the opportunity to observe the brunette. The first thing your nose focused on was her flowery scent. Meanwhile Lorraine had to stop herself from inhaling deeply. Your earthy scent permeated throughout the fabric of the car's interior, intoxicatingly alluring, yet, subtle.
“Nice.” You tapped at the steering wheel with your long fingers. “So you two are serious?” You ask.
Lorraine turns to examine you and you turn your head back to the road doing your best to hide the hopeful look in your eye.
“Why do you want to know?” Lorraine asked suspiciously as she narrowed her eyes at you.
“No reason, Just making conversation.”
“Make another left on University.” She pointed and you nodded making the turn. “It’s this one on the right.”
You stopped in front of the building before climbing out of the truck. You grabbed her textbook and tote from her when she opened her door.
“What are you doing?” She asked cautiously as you took the tote bag from her arms.
“I’m walking you up.” You explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before you scrunched your eyebrows and walked up the stairs of the dorm building with the brunette leading the way.
Your mind wanders to the times you’ve seen her walking with RJ and you realize she carried most of the equipment you shook your head condemning the lazy man under your breath. If she were yours…
“Well, thank you for the ride, and for carrying my stuff. Three flights of stairs is hard enough to walk up without all the extra weight.”
“No problem, I’m happy to help.” You hand her the bag and the textbook as she holds her dorm door open with her foot. She takes the items from you and smiles softly.
You stand there a second longer, turning on your heel to walk back down stairs before you turn back around with a finger to your temple. Your heart beat rapidly as you took a deep breath and prepared for rejection. “Um. Can I get your number? You know to share details about the party this weekend and other future gigs. Maybe get some coffee or hang out sometimes.”
Lorraine reached into her bag not even looking up at your slight ramble before she pulls out a sharpie and grabs onto your hand uncapping the marker with her pearly white teeth writing down ten digits and smiling softly at you as she recaps the sharpie and heads into her dorm shutting the door softly.
You smile brightly looking down at the numbers scrawled on your palm a small smiley below the digits. You vibrate in your spot before turning and walking down the steps blowing on the ink in your palm so it doesn’t smear.
Texas was dreary this time of year. Yet the heat persisted, It always had. You had always dreaded the summer heat, it was a wonder you ever made it to the University of Texas. Not because you were a slacker in high school but because you genuinely dreaded the heat. But they had the best film program in the state plus Farrah Fawcett and that was enough for you.
Your head ached something miserable as you stood in the dreaded heat blanketed with smoke and the smell of burning wood. Fire season. Times like this there was little remedy, except for the freshman that sat a couple rows in front of you in your film studies lecture hall, Lorraine.
She was petite and reserved, her dark hair flowing in the small breeze that lifted and brushed through the long deep brown waves that rested against her spine. She was wearing little else besides shorts that reached her mid thigh, unless she was sitting, and she was. Accompanying her short black shorts was an oversized white button-up rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes scanned her textbook looking contemplative, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Dude, there isn’t a thought behind your eyes.”
It took a hand waving in front of your face to draw your attention back to the bench Vinny crouched atop. His expression long as he gazed at you with mild irritation. “What were you saying?”
He scoffed dryly before pulling his hoodie over his cropped, caesar cut until he was freed from the oppressive heat trapped inside the thick material. That left him in his graphic metal tee that clung to him despite its regular fit due to the sweat he managed to accumulate. “Are you coming to practice today or am I gonna have to cover for you again?”
He tugged at his t-shirt as you answered, “When’s our next gig, again?”
“This weekend, we have that frat party.”
“Right, then. I’ll be there after work.”
“Everyone’s gonna be pretty drunk though so I’m not stressing.”
You nodded mindlessly as your eyes drifted back to the object of your longing.
“Good, cause there’s no Swallow without our frontman.” He smirked and pulled out two crumpled twenty dollar bills and passed them to you. That jumpstarted your brain enough to have you stuff the money in your pocket and reach into your bookbag handing him a small baggy with a good amount of budded purple flower inside. He hurriedly shoved it in his pocket and you zipped your bag back up and slung it over your shoulder.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
A moment of comfortable silence. “So… Is this why you wanted to meet in the film section? so you could stalk your little girlfriend, who isn’t your girlfriend cause she has a boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes opting to ignore him.
He kept talking— as most men would, given the opportunity— “…Why don’t you go ask her out anyway, I mean that’s how Ozzy got Billie.” Vinny suggested referencing how the guitarist in your band got with his current girlfriend. “Snatched her right from Justin.”
“Yeah and Oz is a loser for taking his friend’s girl like that.” You condemned easily. “Why are you still here, anyway?”
Vinny scrunched his face. He mumbled a quiet, “Rude.” His foot jutted out his steel toe boot colliding sharply with your shin causing pain to reverberate up your leg shocking you. He ran off.
You growled staring at Lorraine a second longer before chasing after your bestfriend.
“Get back here!” You yelled, unknowingly drawing attention. Lorraine’s eyes lifted and narrowed as she took in the childish scene and boyish roughhousing. Her eyes rolled in annoyance as she watched you chase around the man looking like middle schoolers playing tag. Her gaze lingered as you caught up to the dark haired man and lunged for his middle, tackled him to the ground throwing pulled punches as he tried to get away. Her eyes lingered on your frame and the way your muscles flexed under your tight band tee, the way your jeans hugged your ass and thighs before flaring at the ankle, everything about you screamed alternative, especially the small tattoos that littered your arm.
When the two of you tired each other out you sat laughing in the grass your hair fallen in your eyes and tousled. You stood up first and helped the man up before your head turned back towards your crush, your childlike grin fading as Lorraine quickly averted her gaze back to her textbook eyes wide and cheeks reddened.
Pretty soon Vinny was leaning on your shoulder whispering into your ear as the brunette watched from her peripheral. Then you were being begrudgingly dragged into her direction.
“Hey!” Vinny bellowed only to be nudged in the ribs by you as you neared the bench Lorraine was sitting at.
He effectively dragged you by the back of your shirt until you drew near enough to carry a conversation without straining your voice.
You twisted your hands nervously behind your back as you looked anywhere but at the group of perceivably pretentious film students. Your eyes lingered on Lorraine but the moment your gazes met you looked away, your face blank, seemingly uninterested.
“My buddy wanted to know if you guys wanted to come to the party our band is playing at this weekend. There’s gonna be booze, women, and good music.” Vinny shrugged casually.
The brunette wasn’t by herself, lonesome as she looked. Her boyfriend, Archie or some shit was sitting a foot away from her leaning over the table conspiratorially as he chatted with two girls you recognized. One whose name you’d never forget. Bobby-Lynne was the first to speak up. Her blonde hair glowed in the sun rays that peeked through the clouds of smoke. “Why isn’t your buddy doing the asking, then?” She leaned forward eyeing you teasingly before blowing a bubble with her bubble gum.
You huffed and looked into the older woman’s sea green eyes. “Hey Bobby.”
Bobby’s mischievous grin widened upon hearing you rasp her name, she bit down on her lip recalling the last time you were rasping her name. “Hey, Y/N.” She greeted obviously enjoying your torment wiggling her fingers in a flirtatious wave, despite her man sitting with a strong arm slung over her shoulder unbothered by her flirtation.
“Uh, Yeah. Anyway, it’d be cool if you guys showed up, watched the show and got a little drunk. Come if you want.” You shrugged. Your eyes drifted over Lorraine who was possessively wrapped under RJ’s arm, her gaze low. if you weren’t mistaken she was staring fairly obviously at your crotch.
You cleared your throat and shrugged nonchalantly shifting on your feet to cross your legs.
“What’s your band’s name again?” Maxine asked leaning into her boyfriend's embrace though her eyes lingered on Vinny a second too long.
“Swallow.” You answered easily.
Lorraine looked up at that. Her gaze finally meeting yours, you smiled softly before looking at Maxine.
“Swallow?”
Lorraine asked as you nearly melted. Your heart pounded at the sound of that sweet southern lilt softening her voice.
“What is that like a sex joke or somethin’.” Her boyfriend whose name you ought to learn asked with a snort.
You rolled your eyes, the thought that this mediocre wannabe thinks he’s better than you lighting a fire in your veins. Enough to send you out of your introversion. Your hands unclasped behind your back as you tucked your thumb into the belt loop of your jeans confidently. “Actually I named it after the first song we played together.” You smiled sarcastically at the long haired tool.
“And to me and our guitarist, Ozzy, it’s a sex joke.” Vinny smirked proudly.
“How does the song go?” Lorraine compelled, leaning her cheek on her palm as she waited to hear your voice again.
You hummed shifting your gaze from RJ’s to his lover. “I’d love to tell you all about it, but I don't want to bore the rest of your friends.” You pretended to ponder for a second, “I’ll tell you what… find me after my set at the party and I’ll sing you all the songs your heart desires.” you smirked.
Vinny looked on with a toothless grin at your smooth-talking. His hand clapped you on the back, jolting your shoulder forward slightly as the boyfriend stiffened in his seat.
“Anyway, we’ve got to practice for our gig, hopefully we’ll see you all there.” Vinny smiled kindly and threw his arm over your shoulder, dragging you away from the group holding out his fist for you to bump with your own.
lorraine day x intersex!reader college a.u. series
Loosely based on the plot of X.
Reader is dragged into joining the film crew on their trip to rural Houston, Texas to film their adult film. Things go wrong and things go right leading to conflict and unplanned consequences. This is Suck It And See.
PART I: AMBROSIA
Chapter 1 Headache
Chapter 2 Library
Chapter 3 Ambrosia
Chapter 4 Swallow
Chapter 5 Bad Influence
Chapter 6 Test Drive
I didn’t know that you posted the Jules Millin x Reader already. I didn’t see it in the tags hence reading it late and complimenting it late too, I’m sorryy!!
Anywaaaay, thank you!! I love it! Though less angst than the previous one that I’ve read from you but this is still chef’s kiss. I wonder if you would still make a part 2 or maybe make another 1 shot for them because if you would then I have prompts pleaaaase.
Thank you again authyyy!
-🐎
No need to apologize babe! lol i’m just glad you enjoyed it. As for the less angst— FUMES was the first fic i ever posted on here so i’m sure the writing style has changed and evolved and i wrote where my heart and mind took me! Once again, glad you enjoyed it! Send those prompts my way i’ll be sure to bring the angst this time 😘❤️
Hi! So I may have stumbled upon your Jules Millin x Reader fic (after catching Amelia and Kai in bed), are you maybe up for making a part 2 of it or maybe kinda in the same “universe” wherein it’s Millin that needs the comfort after Yasuda left. I hope you could consider my request but no pressure though! Just really wanted some Jules x reader here bc there aren’t enough queer Grey characters x reader fic in tumblr. Thank you!
Warning(s): Hurt/Comfort, Coping, GN Reader, (breasts & peen mentioned but not really interacted with) Top!Reader, Alcohol consumption, tears shed, reader gets walked in on, dubcon, (alc involved) fingering, reader is a rebound. Requested Fic
You tore your mask and gown off with a smirk after another successful transplant surgery. You glanced up to the gallery and your smirk instantly dropped, your eyebrows scrunched as you headed to the sinks to scrub out. Your eyes locked on an anxious looking Millin who looked a moment from hurling herself off a building.
It had been a while since you last spent time with her. She had found what was apparently the girl of her dreams and had had tunnel vision ever since. Something you respected. You fell back and focused on your work. But when you looked at her now you knew something was terribly wrong.
You exited the scrub room and made your way to the Attendings’ Lounge. Your shift ending soon. You decided to take the moment to undress and wind down. You were in the middle of changing. Your scrub top was in your work bag waiting to be taken to your apartment to wash and you were buttoning up your jeans – only wearing your black bra – when Jules slipped quietly inside the room, eyes red and puffy. She paced back and forth for a moment.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked your voice soft with concern in that way that made the mahogany-haired woman’s stomach churn and heart warm.
She stopped pacing, her eyes trailed from your socks to your abs and further up to your face. She seemed stuck in time, a tear slipping down her cheek that made you drop the black long-sleeve you were about to don and pull her towards you by her arms. Your thumbs swiping the tears from her cheeks, a pit sinking into your gut. You questioned more insistently, “What’s wrong Jules?”
She attempted to pull away from your touch but you refused to let her.You cupped her cheeks attempting to draw her stormy brown eyes to your own – she refused to yield. “Hey, don’t do that. You came to me for a reason. Talk to me. I want to help,” You whispered patiently, tenderly.
Jules didn’t want that right now. She shoved your chest harshly making you stumble backwards nearly falling over an end table. Your lips parted in shock.
“Jules.” You mumble and she wiped her tears with her palms. A deep breath and more silence…Your jeans sagged on your hips as you waited.
“Just… don’t.”
You nodded slowly. She still couldn’t meet your gaze.
“She left.” Jules spat through gritted teeth like she was in physical pain and your expression instantly slacked from confusion as the realization dawned on you.
“Wait… Yasuda sh–”
Jules runs her fingers through her hair as more tears breach her stormy irises that still refused to meet yours.
“Fuck.” You mumbled knowing the brunette well enough to know if you dared showed an ounce of pity she would run and never look back.
“Yeah.”
The door to the attendings’ lounge swung open in that moment and you grunted as Millin shrunk in on herself. You brushed past her and glared at Dr. Ndugu, pushed a hand against his chest, and forced him out of the room as he protested.
You walked back to your locker and pulled your long-sleeve over your head before wrapping your jacket around Jules’ shoulders. You snatched your bag up and pulled your shoes onto your feet, then you wrapped a strong arm around her waist and guided her out of the lounge. Her head hung, her footsteps unsteady.
You bypassed families and coworkers alike not even chancing a greeting as you guided her out of the hospital and into your old F-150. You opened the passenger door and practically lifted her into the truck, tugged the seatbelt over her trembling frame and shut the door. You climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the parking lot carefully.
Five minutes into the drive she began sniffling. Five minutes after that the silence of the road was replaced by the sound of her heavy sobs. Your jaw has set by the time you pull up to your apartment. You shut off the engine and slouched into your seat. Gazing at her as she sobbed and after a while you opened your arms offering a shoulder.
She glanced at you teary-eyed and sniffling to keep her nose from running. The sleeve of your jacket over her mouth to muffle the sobs that tore through her and you draped your arm over her shoulders. She scoots into you leaning towards you sliding across the bench seat until her head is resting on top of your thigh her tears seeped through the denim as you rubbed her shoulder and back soothingly.
“Let it out.” You whispered.
She sobbed harder burying her face into the denim of your jeans as you moved to pull the elastic from her hair and stroke your fingers through it. “I’ve got you.”
“She left me!” She cried out.
“I know. I know.”
An hour later the sobbing seemed to recede and Jule’s phone was blowing up with texts from her friends wondering where she was. You watched as she held down the power button and turned her phone off.
“Let’s go inside. I’ll heat you up some leftovers and we’ll watch a horror movie.”
Jules rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I don’t need coddling, I need something hard.”
You smirked at the unintentional innuendo.
Her face scrunched in disgust and she smacked your chest. “Not! Like that!”
She groaned. You laughed warmly. “Ouch.”
“Don’t be a baby. I just meant Tequila.”
You nodded as you climbed out of the truck and she followed, wiping her face with the sleeve of your jacket. Her nose, eyes, and cheeks rosy. “I don’t keep that shit in my house, it tastes like cayenne pepper and bad decisions.” You shiver at the memories as Jules groans loudly and drags her feet.
“I have whiskey though.” You informed as you walk up the steps and open the door to your apartment building.
“That’ll do, I guess.”
You nodded as you walked up the flight of stairs with the brunette in tow. You finally reached your apartment and unlocked the door. You dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, setting them on the rack. Calmly, you made your way to the cupboard reaching up to the top shelf. You pulled down the large three-quarters full bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
Jules sighed and leaned against your kitchen island shoes having tracked in mud but you’re too focused to care. You opened the bottle and poured two glasses to which Millin snatched them both and downed the sickly sweet liquid inside. You gaped in shock and chuckled as she grimaced and wiped her lips. You poured more into the glasses and snatched the second one before she could get her hands on it. You took a breath in and clinked your glass against hers. You tapped the glass on the counter and breathed out, tossed it back with her and inhaled slowly– shivering in disgust.
Jules smirked. “Pussy.”
You rolled your eyes and moved to the fridge to pull out the leftover fried chicken and homemade mac and cheese.
“How do you find time to cook?” The brunette asked as she poured herself another glass.
“Day off.” You mumbled with a smirk as you pressed the buttons on the microwave to heat the food and moved to the fridge to grab a Powerade.
You slid the bottle of blue electrolytes to her. “Electrolytes with your liquor?”
Jules rolled her eyes and twisted the cap open begrudgingly taking a sip. You nodded approvingly and headed to your bedroom to get undressed. You sighed as you tugged your shirt over your head and unbuttoned your jeans letting them fall, still stained with the brunette’s tears.
You stood confidently in your boxer-briefs and bra taking a breath and a moment to yourself. You were shedding your boxers and pulling up a pair of thin pajama pants when Jules walked in with her thumb pointing to the kitchen her eyes instantly falling on your limp dick.
You cursed and turned your back on instinct.
Her spluttering halted as she tilted her head and smirked at the ink scribbled across the back of your thigh, “Is that a tattoo?”
You hurriedly pulled the pajama pants up and tied them securely. “What did you need?”
You asked ignoring the heat in your cheeks and ears.
“What does it say?” She asks referring to the tattoo on the back of your thigh just below the curve of your glute.
You groaned and brushed past her hearing the microwave beep. “Your dinner is done.”
You tried to brush her off but she didn’t let you. She followed you into the kitchen and poured herself another glass as you grabbed her a fork and slid the tupperware to her.
“I won’t eat until you tell me what it says. I will starve myself, I swear.”
You roll her eyes at her tipsy dramatics. “Fine. It says ‘Pleasure Over Matter.’”
Jules snorts before keeling over laughing and you smirk embarrassed but glad to see her smiling. You just watch her with a soft look in your eyes. “Now eat your food. You know you want it.”
“You are so… full of yourself, my god!” She cackled.
You rolled your eyes and picked up the fork, stabbing some elbow noodles and held it to her lips. “Eat.”
She takes a bite and moans softly before taking the fork and digging in. “Am i drunk already or are you a good cook?”
You smirk. “Both.”
You watched her eat and poured yourself another glass of whiskey and downed it in one go. You stuck your tongue out and made a noise of distaste. Jules eats slowly but surely and taps her glass for you to top her off. You do. She downed it, took a pointed sip of Powerade and went back to eating as you screwed the cap on the bottle and placed it in your freezer to the brunette’s disappointment.
“Come on.” You mutter and guide her to your living room as she eats. You turn on the tv and let her pick a horror movie as you sink into the cushion of your couch beside her. She settles on Scream, one of her favorites.
You sit through most of the movie together. She finishes eating and sips at the Powerade you gave her and she turns to look at you. “How are things with you and Dr. Shepherd?”
You press your lips together and turn away from the gorey movie to hold her gaze. “Uh… nonexistent. I don’t accept that type of betrayal as something to move past.”
Jules nodded slowly. “So you two are over? Like for good? How can you walk away that easily?”
You snorted. “You just walk away and don’t look back.”
Jules nodded slowly again. The alcohol made her slow to process. “Is it that easy?”
You scan her face and realize hastily she’s conflating her situation with Yasuda to your’s. “Hey, she’s a fool for leaving you. Don’t get me wrong, grief makes people do stupid things they wouldn’t necessarily do… but.. You didn’t betray her. You did nothing wrong. She simply walked away. And that might be what she needed… that doesn’t reflect on you, Jules. That reflects on her. You deserve all the love in the world. Someone who will see it through with you. Not that half-in half-out bullshit you usually settle for. She’s going through a lot and she made the choice to deal with that on her own and abandoned you in the process. That’s the facts of the situation. Focus on the facts, don't draw conclusions, especially ones that mess up your own self worth.”
Jules nodded her eyes tearing up again. “I just.. I feel so..”
You nod slowly. “Hurt?”
She nods and wipes at her eyes. “I thought… we could get through it together. I thought we had something. I just don’t want to think anymore. I shouldn't have ever gotten involved, I should have kept my head down.”
You sigh and pull her towards you by her ankle until her legs are across your lap and you hug her. “Don’t shame yourself. There’s no shame in… falling in love. You’re human.”
“I-I know, but…”
You shush her as she sniffles against your neck. “There is no but. You lead with your heart that was brave. Not stupid.”
Jules fell silent sniffling over the screams that echoed from your flatscreen. You held her together and kissed the top of her head and she leaned into you. She looked teary-eyed and dejected and you pouted, bringing a hand to her cheek. She leans into your touch and you clench your jaw as she gives you a certain look, her gaze darkening as she leans upwards her lips parting slightly. You rest your forehead against hers.
“Are you sure?”
She responds silently by bringing a soft hand to the back of your neck, her nails gently biting into the flesh there. You nod slowly and lean in to capture her lips. You stop just before they meet. “You won’t hate me for this?”
Jules pulls back to catch your eye. “Shut up.” She mumbled and captured your lips roughly with her own and you melted– kissing her back with a certain reservation. While she… she was rough with you because she knew you could handle it. Handle her. That’s what she wanted…to be handled. And handled well.
She bites down on your lip and straddles your lap as she forces her tongue into your mouth and you suck on it causing her to groan and pull away only to dive back in– her hands trailed over the lace of your bra and down your clenched abdomen.
You dragged your lips away from hers and along the edge of her jaw to catch your breath. You smirked and licked her pulse point sucking lightly before moving on. The brunette shrugged your jacket off her lithe frame and pulled her scrub top over her head.
You licked your lips as she cupped your cheeks before dragging your head forward so that your swollen lips grazed against the tops of her breast. You kissed the skin languidly feeling her heart pound under your lips as you reached behind her and unclasped her bra with one hand.
She chuckled as you smirked devilishly and pulled the straps down her arms until you were able to toss the constrictive garment aside. “You’re so smooth with that.”
“Practice makes perfect.” You mumbled before sucking one of her rosy pink nipples into your mouth laving your tongue over the peak as you massaged the other. She grinded down on your abs as your mouth world her eyes on your face as she pushed your hair out of your way.
You switched to her other breast as she grabbed your free hand and untied her scrub bottoms before shoving it inside. YOu moaned against her breast as you cupped her wet cunt over her panties before pushing them aside. She gasped as your fingers gently traced her clit.
You rubbed the bundle of nerves languidly trailing your fingers further until you could swipe some of the slick from her entrance up against her button. Jules' hips jerked and her head fell backwards. “Fuck. Please.”
You released her nipple–a string of your spit connecting you to her breast still. You cupped her jaw and dragged her lips back down to yours as you plunged a single finger into her entrance swirling it around. She moaned into your mouth her arms wrapped around your neck as you swirled your tongue over hers.
You nibbled her lower lip as you curled your finger. She pulled away with a whine– her clit dragging over the heel of your palm. You knew what she wanted before she even asked plunging a second finger inside her tight, wet heat. She groaned and let her forehead rest against your’s.
“Feel good?” You smirked as you dragged your fingers through her pussy rubbing against the textured patch just inside her entrance.
Her back arched as she whimpered and grinded her clit harder against your palm. She rolled her hips perfectly to ride your long fingers that reached deeper than anyone else ever could including herself. Her breath fanned against your face and smelled of pure whiskey–how intoxicating. She nodded mindlessly and you chuckled hotly.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck. Yes!” She cried as you scissored your fingers inside her.
You groaned as she tightened around your fingers, more wetness gushing into your palm. You fucked your fingers into her faster in response. You made sure to hook your fingers on every pull to drag against that spot that made her walls clench tighter every time. That spot that made her hold on your wrist tighten and that airy moan spew from her lips. Her face scrunched in pleasure.
“Right there?” You inquired though you knew the answer before she frantically nodded her head in desperation.
You smirked and scissored your fingers inside her. Feeling her walls tighten and her cunt gush in response. The brunette ground her clit against your palm letting out a growled mewl.
“There you go, take what you need.” You whispered and sucked her pink nipple back into your mouth as she rode your fingers frantically.
Jules whined and bounced on your fingers insistently canting her hips forward to rub her clit against your palm over and over. That's when you brought your other hand down and swiped at the bundle of nerves hastily, your fingers slipping on the sheer amount of slick.
You arched your hips up unconsciously seeking attention but remained focused as Jules' breath stuttered. The smell of whiskey filling your senses as she cupped your cheeks and brought your lips to hers her eyes rolling back as her back arched–-with a gush and a breathless whine she came hard all over your hands. Her eyes rolled back and her breath caught as you rubbed her clit and g-spot simultaneously as her walls seized.
The sounds spilling from her lips tasted of pure heaven on your tongue as you pulled away to gaze at her pleasure-overcome features. Her eyebrows drawn together her lips open her jaw tight. Her hips canted wildly chasing the euphoria you helped her achieve until it all came crashing down.
The brunette slackened in your arms. Her breath fanning against your neck, her mahogany tresses tickling your jaw and shoulder as you wiped her slick on her thigh before pulling your hand out of her pants and wrapping her in your arms holding her close. Silence befell the room, the credits of the movie playing in the background as she caught her breath.
Jules shuddered as she was hit with aftershock after aftershock. Her eyes welled up again as the euphoria faded and her reality came crashing back down on her. You heard her sniffle and instantly tightened your arms around her.
You held your breath as she began to sob into your neck. You kissed her shoulder as she cried well into the night, and you fell asleep with her curled up in your arms.
summary: jinx has a unique way of confronting you about your "friends with benefits" relationship. like, for instance, trying to talk you into it while she's riding you.
warnings/themes: smut 18+, mdni, friends w benefits, strapon reffered to as cock, car fun, angry sex (sort of…??? it's fluff in the end 🤞), talking during ykw, reader has commitment issues
words: 5.0k
You knew Jinx wouldn't be able to keep her hands to herself for long, but you still didn't expect her to swing her leg over your lap to take her spot.
Jinx wears a cropped tank top and a skirt that barely covers her thighs. She leans forward, her chest right next to your face, and you can see the outline of her tits. She places her hands on your shoulders, squeezing them as she gets comfortable on your lap.
Your hands settle on her waist. “You should've told me,” you tell her as you watch her toss the top in the backseat. “Could've at least parked somewhere more private.”
She only gives a snort. “Don't act like you mind.”
You don't. You really don't mind.
You lick your lips as you watch her thighs open wider for you, noticing the lack of any undergarments. “You're not wearing any underwear?”
“Was I supposed to?” she asks, rolling her hips in small circles in your lap.
“I'd say not,” you reply, moving your hands off her waist and to her hips. “Makes things much easier.”
Jinx leans down to bring her face closer to yours, and you can smell the shampoo from her hair. It's the one you bought for her after she mentioned a few days ago that she was close to running out.
Your noses brush against each other, and you both let out a soft laugh before moving to connect your lips. Her lips are so soft, so familiar, and the taste of her mouth is so sweet, and you take your time to taste them. You can hear her exhale through her nose as you gently suck on her bottom lip.
Her fingers tug at your pants, the fabric bunching up under her fingers, trying to pull them down. “Get them off,” she murmurs, a subtle breathlessness in her voice. “Now.”
Your lips pull away from hers. “Bossy.”
“You're taking too long,” she whines, lifting her body off of your lap slightly so you can better pull off your pants.
“I'm doing it.” You move your hands away from her hips to fumble with your belt, unbuckling and unbuttoning your pants. You lift your hips and push your pants and underwear down, kicking them off your feet.
Jinx's eyes trail down, and then you see her lips curl into a smirk as she sees the silicone cock strapped to your hip. She hums, biting her lip gently as her eyes flick up to meet your stare.
“Look at that,” she whispers, her thumb running over the tip and down the veins along the length, squeezing it once. “Someone came well prepared.” She wraps her fingers around the girth, slowly pumping it as she looks into your eyes. “Is it new?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “Was waiting for a reason to use it.”
“Mhm. Well, I guess we'll have to change that,” she says, circling the tip along her slick folds.
Your hips instinctively buck forwards as she teases you. You want to pull her down, and you try, but she resists your grip on her hips.
Jinx just chuckles, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You like that, huh?” she asks, her hips continuing to grind against you, your hips pushing against her in response. “You really like that.”
“Jinx…” you murmur before pulling her close to your chest and pressing a kiss on her lip. Your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her again. Her hands slide up your chest, around your shoulders, and into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp.
She pulls away from your kiss, looking at you with a smirk. “Ekko told me something interesting today,” she breathes out, her hands returning down to your shoulders for support as she sinks further down, letting the toy stretch her.
You swallow down your moan, your eyes closing briefly. “Are you really bringing up Ekko at a time like this?”
She doesn't answer your question right away. She's still adjusting, her head thrown back as she lets out a sigh. “He mentioned that you're telling everyone that we aren't together,” she says after a few moments, her hands pushing off your shoulders to undo the clasp of her bra. It gets thrown away somewhere on the backseat without a second thought.
“But we're not together,” you state, your hands sliding under her skirt and squeezing her ass. “We're just friends.”
She hums in response. “Mhm, but tell me, baby,” she starts, pulling your hands off her ass and moving them to her bare breasts, “do friends do this?”
Your brain struggles to process her question for a while. Words aren't making their way from your mind to your tongue, and you're not sure what you'd say if they did.
Your hands seem to know what they should do, though, because as soon as you look down, your hands seem to grip and squeeze her tits, rubbing your thumb over her nipples, making them harden.
“Friends don't touch each other like you touch me,” she continues, her fingers running over your wrists, sliding up your forearms as your hands still work on her breasts. “Friends don't do this… friends don't feel like this…”
She looks directly into your eyes before lifting her skirt to fully expose herself to you. Your eyes follow her movement, watching how the thick shaft slips into her drenched cunt. “I think you and I spend way too much time together to be considered as friends.”
Her words make you scoff because, as much as you don't like it, she isn't wrong. Maybe it's because you two are nothing like friends. But that isn't even on your mind at the moment. The only thing you can focus on is her. Her body, her face, the way she feels.
“I've been spending more nights with you than I do with my friends,” she continues. “Have I ever told you that I haven't spent a night away from you in the last year? never slept in my own bed.”
“But we agreed to keep it as friends,” you argue, your hands leaving her nipples to grip her thighs.
“Friends,” she repeats, bringing her hand up to her mouth and sucking on two of her fingers until they're wet and glistening.
You watch her pull her fingers out of her mouth as she slides them down between her legs, slowly rubbing the tip of her two fingers over her clit.
“Friends definitely aren't supposed to be doing what you and I do. Do they, baby?”
“It's... its not that unusual for two friends to do this,” you find yourself saying, and she lets out a snort.
“Mhm. Not unusual for you, huh? so, you do this with everyone.”
“I didn't say that.”
“So you're only saying no to me?”
“We're not together,” you remind her for the millionth time.
“You're really good at making me scream your name for someone who isn't in a relationship with me,” she counters, her eyes lidded. She slips her fingers from between her legs, then reaches behind you, wrapping her fingers around your neck. “You can't date me, but you're all too happy to share a bed and use me when you're feeling lonely? Does that make you feel good, or maybe just make you feel a little less pathetic?”
Her words sting, and you open your mouth to respond. To deny it, to say that it isn't true...but words don't form, not when she's currently taking the cock so deep that you can see the shape of it through her skin, bulging out on her lower belly every time she sinks back down onto you. Your hand gently touches the bump, and you feel like you can even feel yourself filling her up.
Her nails bury themselves into the back of your neck as your hand touches the outline of the toy, her eyes closing before fluttering back open to look at you.
“You're still saying no to me, even when you're inside me,” she mutters between her soft gasps and moans. “Even when you fill me up so good, you still want to just keep me as a friend. You're selfish, you know that?”
Your eyebrows knit tightly, the guilt crawling up your spine to wrap around your throat.
“All the best bits with none of the responsibilities, that's you,” she adds before leaning back, her hands pressing against the roof of the car, back arching. “You just want to have some fun and still-”
Her words are cut off as your hands grab her legs, roughly pulling her back to you, the toy filling her up again.
She moans your name loudly, shifting her hands from the roof of the car to the headrest behind you to steady herself. “You-” she gasps out, her head tilting forward as her hair hangs down, tickling your neck. “Do you treat other people the same way that you treat me? ...or am I just your side piece?”
“What are you talking ab-” you choke on your words as she lifts herself again, then moans softly as she sinks down on the toy.
“I fucking asked you a question,” she snaps, her other hand reaching behind her, grabbing your wrist, and pulling your hand off of her thigh just before you could do it again.
“Fu-” you swallow the curses that were about to escape from your lips. “It's not like—just please, give me a second to think, yeah?”
“You've got plenty of time to think when you're alone,” she says, letting go of the backseat to rest her hands on your chest, grinding her hips slowly. “But when I'm with you, I want you to pay attention to me. You've been distracted lately, you haven't been listening to me.”
Then suddenly, a single drop of sweat runs down her neck, getting lost in the valley of her chest, between her breasts, which she notices.
“See? You're not even looking me in the eyes.” Her words pull your eyes back up to her face. “Can you even look at me when you bullshit me, cause-”
You aren't sure what came over you—maybe it's her words, maybe it's the constant teasing, but you do know that she needs to shut up. So, you do what you do best: put her in her place. You grip her hips and lift her up off of you, moving her to the other side of the seat.
Her back hits cold leather with a loud thud, followed by the sound of her head hitting the headrest and a small whimper of pain. But all of that is immediately drowned out by the moan that leaves her because when she landed on the seat, the cock slid in even deeper, and you can see her eyes rolling up.
You position both of your knees on the seat to get a better angle, and you watch how the toy looks like it's just being sucked right into her. Her fluids are sticking to the silicone, making the toy slick as it pushes deeper into her.
She reaches behind her, searching for the seat recliner button, her fingers eventually finding it. She then leans back in the passenger seat, completely lying down on the seat. “I'll ask you again,” she starts, her legs spreading on either side of you, her hips canted upwards. “Do you do this with-”
You stop her by pulling the fabric of her skirt, the sound of threads snapping was a bit too loud in the car.
She hisses, eyes looking down at her ripped skirt, now with an inch-long cut in the side that exposed her inner thighs. “Hey! That's my favorite-”
“I'll buy you another one.”
“That's not the point-” she begins, but you don't let her finish, hands moving to pull the torn fabric off her and throw it aside.
“Will you shut up for a minute?” you snap, slowly pulling the cock out only to push it back in.
“You-” she gasps, her hands curling into small fists. “Don't talk to me like-”
“You said you wanted to hear me talk, and now you're the one running your mouth all over the place.”
She pulls her bottom lip with her teeth. “Fuck-” she curses as her hips meet your thrusts halfway, filling her over and over again.
You drop your mouth down, giving her neck sloppy kisses. “The answer you want to hear so much is that no, I don't treat others the same way that I treat you. Does that make you happy? seeing you're the only one I do that with?”
“Why?” she asks, “Why don't you date me? is there something wrong with me?”
“No,” you immediately say, leaving a bite mark on the side of her neck.
She pushes your shoulder, trying to move you away from her neck and look at your face. “Then why?”
Your hand pushes one of her legs to spread wider before bringing your mouth close to her ear. “Because this is better,” you murmur, burying your face into the side of her neck.
“Better?” she repeats with a scoff. “Better what? you using me for quick sex?”
You push yourself up, your eyes meeting hers. “That's what we agree to, isn't it?” you say. “No strings attached.” It hurts to say, but it's true. “That's what we wanted, what we agreed on. No attachment, no feelings.”
Your hand leaves her hip, moving down to her leg. The heel of her foot is digging into your upper back as you lift her leg, bringing it up over your shoulder, making her body stretch even more.
“So why do you want me to be with you?” you ask, your thrusts speeding up, and the car is starting to rock on its wheels.
“Sh—because I want you, okay?” Her hands slide up your shoulders to scratch your back, her nails marking you. “I fucking want you,” she repeats, her teeth closing on your shirt in an attempt to bite out her anger.
You lift her other leg to place it on your shoulder, getting her to spread her legs as wide as possible. Your hands slide off her legs, curling them around her waist.
“I want you to come home. I want that. I want you in my home, in my bed, in my life. I want us to be together, I want us to be partners, I want-” a strangled moan escapes her lip when you find the right spot, “-I want something more. If you don't feel the same way, please tell me, because I'll leave and let you do whatever you want, but don't keep stringing me along to keep pretending that this is alright.”
Her words hit you hard, and the silence that follows is too loud for your ears, and there's nothing you can do to drown it out.
You know that all relationships have an end, no matter how good, how right, or how good they were. ‘Everything you have is temporary, so enjoy it while you still can.’
You've never felt any attachment to your belongings, and relationships are no different. You can love, and you can hate, but you never felt any need to be attached. To be deeply attached.
But the idea of her leaving you...
You hate that thought. You loathe it with a passion that burns in your soul.
You look at her, seeing her expression soften. Her eyes are locked with yours, and something stirs within you. “You'd really leave?”
“I would,” she whispers, her hands holding tightly onto the back of your shoulder blades, nails threatening to pierce through your shirt and into your skin. “If you tell me that you don't want anything more, that this is all you want… yeah, I'd leave. I'll give up what I have—what I want.”
You feel a pain in your chest, and your stomach churns uncomfortably, because you know, even with the thin excuse of “no strings attached,” you've been selfish. You've used her. And you know, with the same certainty, that any moment without her is going to feel like an unending torture.
“But tell me. Do you want me to stay?” she asks, her hands trail down from your shoulders to your biceps.
You hate that she's asking you such a simple question, but it's also the most complicated one you've ever gotten in your life.
Your hands tighten around her waist, and your eyes burn with tears you'd never let her see. She sees your struggle, and without any mercy, her hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, her thumb wiping away the tears that you didn't even know had fallen.
“I want you to stay,” you manage, but your voice is too quiet, and she doesn't seem to hear it, so you repeat, “I want you to stay,” this time with more confidence.
“Say it again.”
“I want you to stay-” you lean forward, pushing her legs closer to her chest. “I need you to stay.”
Your hips keep the pace, rough and fast, making sure you hit the right spot. Her eyes flutter and her head tilts back when you drive her body up.
“Stay,” you keep on saying the same word every time you hit deep, making her feel you to the hilt before pulling out halfway again.
Stay.
You need to drive this one word into her, pound it into her mind, carve it into her flesh, sear it into her soul. You want to mark her with the sound of your voice and leave her with something even her own madness can't destroy.
You don't know when, but at some point, the line you refused to cross was crossed a long time ago. Now, you want to push even further, to burn down any boundary between you two.
Your words finally fade, and instead, there's just this ragged breathing that's coming from your throat.
You pound her so hard and deep that she can't think straight, all her strength is devoted to that thick cock filling her up. Her thighs tremble around your shoulder, almost closing around you. Her breath comes out in short bursts, she tries to keep her head up to keep her eyes on your face, but with every thrust, the headrest hits the back of her head.
Your eyes flicker over her face, lingering on her half-lidded gaze, her flushed cheeks, and her parted lips, noticing how her eyes do the exact same.
Her eyes keep looking at you, only you, and you wish you could turn away, but there are tears on the corners of her eyes just like yours, and you can't look away from them.
“I love... I love you.”
You hear her words, the words fall from her parted lips straight into your ears, and god—you feel like you're breaking.
Her fingers run over your cheeks, tracing the slope of your cheeks, wiping the sweat that's dripping from your temples. Her hands slide through your hair before they fall, resting back on your biceps, keeping your face close.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much-” she cries out, throwing her head back, exposing the column of her neck.
And with that—the last little bit of strength she has left, that one last little bit of willpower to keep holding herself together—all of it shatters like glass, because, in the end, you're all she's ever wanted. Needed.
She lets out a scream before her body stiffens, back arching off the car seat as her thighs tremble, toes curling, fingers digging into your skin. You watch as her juices spray out all over the car seat, her thighs, and your stomach, leaving a messy trail of clear liquid around you.
You realize that she has been calling out your name, and all you can think about is how good your name sounds on her lips.
The windows are completely fogged up, hiding you from any eyes that want to look in, and you are more than thankful that you parked somewhere secluded. If they can hear anything, the windows are shut and the car is completely soundproof.
So you lean into her, and you don't hold back as you push your tongue into her still open mouth, tasting the sounds that leave her, trying to swallow them, and drinking them like you are desperate to devour every little bit of her.
You feel her tongue touch yours, and she pushes herself upwards just enough to kiss you deeply, her hand sliding under your shirt to feel your sweat-slick body.
You slow down your hips, letting her come down, and her legs feel like jelly in your hands as they fall weakly on the side of your hips.
When your tongue leaves her mouth, you feel like leaving a part of yourself behind.
Jinx's hand leaves your damp shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead before slowly sliding down your face and then moving down over your jaw.
You pull the cock out of her, giving her body a chance to relax and recover without the toy stretching her out. Your knees fall onto the floor, and you wrap your arms around her midriff, resting your head on her chest.
You don't know how long you stay like that, but you don't mind the silence.
You feel her fingers drawing lines across your upper back, up and down, until she reaches your head. She plays with your hair, twisting it softly around her fingers. You are pretty sure she's doing it unconsciously while her eyes stare blankly into the fogged up windows.
“Did you mean it?” you ask after a moment.
“Mean what?”
“This,” you reply, raising your head to look at her face.
Her eyes meet yours, and you think, if you could, you'd spend the rest of your life just looking into them. “That I love you?” She stops playing with your hair, lifting her hand to brush the side of your face. “Yes,” she says simply. “I love you.”
You don't bother asking her why she loves you, it's not a question you need the answer for.
Your head drops back between her breasts, where it's warmer. “I'm sorry, Jinx,” you murmur as your hand starts tracing her ribcage. You hear her hum, her fingers resuming their soft trailing all over your head, playing with your hair. “I think I've been hurting you.”
And like you had hoped, she has enough energy left in her to scoff at the words. “You think?” she says. “I've been hurting, dumbass.”
“I know, I know,” you reply, tilting your head so you can kiss the center of her chest. “I'm being serious.”
She scoffs again, but you hear a soft chuckle under her breath, and you think, that's the sound that you love hearing most. “So am I,” she says. “It hurts, being with you and not being with you. Do you understand that?”
“I think I do.” You raise your head slightly to look at her face. Your chin digs into the valley between her breasts as you meet her gaze.
“You think you do,” she repeats again, and there's a hint of a scoff. “You know, I'd punch you if I weren't so tired.”
“Thank god for that,” you say, and she rolls her eyes at your words.
“And you should be thankful,” she says, flicking your ear.
“I am.” You lean forward, moving higher up to kiss her lips, just a simple and chaste press of lips. “I'm sorry.”
She tries to follow your mouth when you pull away, and you can see the disappointment on her face.
“I'm sorry,” you repeat after another kiss. “I'm a big idiot for treating you unfairly.” You kiss her again and again, each one of them short and sweet, not even trying to deepen the kiss.
“I'm really sorry,” you say again as you kiss her jawline, nipping her skin softly. “I really didn't want to hurt you,” you whisper into her ear before you pull your mouth down and kiss her neck.
She hums, her legs shifting, and you can tell she is starting to feel needy again.
“I was scared,” you confess, moving down her chest, towards her breasts. “I was too afraid of losing you.”
Your mouth closes over one of her hardened nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nub, and her head falls on the seat. Your hand finds the other nipple, your fingers tugging and pinching it and you hear her moan your name. Your mouth moves from one to the other, sucking on all that soft, smooth skin.
She digs her nails into your head, and then you pull away. Your mouth travels over the valley of her cleavage, giving her pale skin the attention it needs.
You continue leaving hickeys all over her torso, kissing and nipping on her skin, your hands roaming over her body, sliding over the slope of her waist, the slight dip of her middle, the ridges of her ribs. You kiss her ribs and all the way down to her stomach, the muscles in her abdomen jump every time you kiss close to her navel.
Her hand is tugging on your hair, trying to bring your face up towards hers, but you ignore her efforts and move your mouth down her body.
“I'm sorry,” you repeat, your fingers digging into her thighs as you kiss every inch of her until you reach her hips. She gasps, her knees trying to keep together, and you gently run your fingers over her inner thighs, kissing her sensitive skin.
“I didn't want to admit it, but I don't want to lose what I don't have.” You kiss the side of her thigh, running your nose in soft circles, feeling her muscles twitch. “You'd keep me at arm's length, and I'd hold you at arm's length. I thought that it was easier that way.”
Her thighs are trembling by the time your mouth reaches the top of her thighs, only to skip her still soaked, sensitive pussy.
“You-” she gasps, “-you were-” her words are cut short when you sink your teeth into her inner thigh and bite hard, leaving a mark that's going to darken into a deep purple soon. “-were a jerk.” She tries to bring her thighs together, but you place your hand on her knee, keeping her legs open.
You let go of her thigh and kiss over the bite, soothing the skin with your tongue before moving your mouth and kissing the other. “I was,” you say, your hands sliding under her thighs, bringing her legs over your shoulders, making her even more open to you. “I was a fool.”
You run your tongue over her inner thighs, kissing right near her clit, but you skip it, leaving it untouched as she keeps letting out breathless whimpers.
“You were.” Her hands reach down, and you let her pull you back up. You hover over her, and she runs her fingers on your jaw, to your cheek, and finally to your chin, holding your face gently. “I want more than quick sex in the car,” she says softly. “I need more than that. It's not fair to me or-”
“Or to me?” you finish for her. “I know.” It's not fair to either of you. You turn your head and kiss her palm.
“And you-” she gives your face a little shake. “I'm not going to play the fool for you anymore,” she states. “I'm not going to pretend that I'm okay with being tossed to the side or with you ignoring me. I just want you to be honest with me. I'm tired of you acting like you don't want me.”
“I do,” you say, feeling her legs crossing around your waist. “I do want you. I've been wanting you.”
“Then be with me.”
It's that simple.
She just wants you, just you.
“Be with me” she repeats, “no more excuses or lies for being scared or stupid. Be with me, have me, I'm right here.”
You look at her, at her face, her expression, her eyes... and you don't need another explanation. Because, this? This is what has been between you two the whole time.
“Okay,” you say, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, making your body feel lighter. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replies without hesitation, but before she can say another word, you lean down and press another kiss on her lips.
You know this can't solve everything, not right away. But you want to try and take it.
Because you do love her, and how can you not? She is beautiful and complicated, and she drives you mad more often than not, and she makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, but she does—and you do love her—and if she wants you to be with her, then you are going to try.
For both of you.
And you show her how you love her. You show her with your mouth, your lips, teeth, and tongue. You show her your want and need and desire, but you also try to make your touch and every kiss as soft as you can.
Her hands slide over your face, her fingers wrapping over your ears as she leans up to respond to the kiss, pulling you closer. Her mouth opens to yours, gently bringing your tongue against hers.
You feel her teeth on your lips, and she bites it softly before she finally lets go of you. “Be with me,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
“I will be,” you promise, pressing another kiss on her lips, and she smiles against your mouth. “I'm with you.”
She hums. “I'm not letting you go."
That's all you needed to hear. All of that fear—it still stings in the back of your mind. But for the first time, it's small enough to ignore.
“No?” you ask, pulling away.
“No.”
“Not ever?”
“Not ever.”
“Never ever?”
“Never ever ever,” she echoes, and the words are enough to make you smile. “I'm going to make you sick of me.”
Your date with Morgan leads to an unexpected confession
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: brief smut, fingering
A/N: I'll just go ahead and apologize for the cliffhanger 😅
The bar seems pretty crowded already, despite it not even being that late. There’s a line to get in that stretches around the building, ending right before a small alley. You and Morgan get in line behind a couple who is being very handsy and you and Morgan share a knowing look.
“I know I can’t say much considering how we first met,” she mutters and you snort at the memory of her fucking you in the hallway of a sorority house, “but this is just out in the open.”
“At least save it for a corner inside,” you agree and Morgan laughs. “How was your quiz yesterday?”
She looks touched that you remembered. “It wasn’t bad! I think I probably got a B at least. There were like two questions that I genuinely had no clue on. The professor definitely didn’t say anything about them. Although, there was one girl who walked out crying so I think I definitely did better than her.”
You grin. “As long as you weren’t the worst one. I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone leave an exam in tears.” Not yet, anyway. You think Agatha’s tests might put a few of your classmates over the edge, if those reviews hold any truth at all.
Morgan waves her hand dramatically. “I’ve seen it a few times. Especially in the stats classes I’ve taken.”
“Oh, god, yes,” you groan, your body shuddering. “I hate statistics with a passion. I’d rather do straight up calculus.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she giggles, “but yes, I agree. Certainly a few tears after that class. A few of them were mine.”
It’s easy to talk to her, a lot easier than you thought it would be. You wish, not for the first time, that you could just be into her. It would certainly save you a lot of trouble. And overthinking.
“How was the presentation thing you had last night?” Morgan asks and the question almost knocks you off your central axis.
You’re a good girl.
Not much else had been on your mind since Agatha said that to you. She had to know what she was doing by calling you that, she had to. And there was the unspoken promise of waiting a few months for her.
You could. You can.
No matter how hard it might be.
“It was interesting,” you answer, trying to think of details from the actual speaker but all you can remember is how the wine on Agatha’s breath smelled, the way she looked at you, the way her pinkie grazed against yours in the car.
Morgan is talking about the little psychology she knows from the general class everyone had to take in their first year, but all you can focus on is the heat spreading from your cheeks down your neck to your stomach.
The second you had gotten back to your dorm last night, you’d done some googling. Wanda had lifted herself on her elbows to watch you as you typed quickly, bent over your computer, but you’d ignored her as you searched Westview student-professor relationship rules.
The first link was to the Westview University policies and you clicked on it. Scanning the pages, you let out a sigh of relief.
Faculty shall not have amorous relationships with students who are in their classes, or when academic work is supervised by a faculty member over a student, or when a faculty member has or is likely to have academic responsibility over a student.
When you’re out of her class, it would be fine.
But if you have her for grad school, it could get into a gray area, and you’re not sure if that applies to being a research assistant for her either.
You next checked the syllabus for her class. The final exam was on the first Friday of December. Thank god the semester is done early. What will happen after you turn it in and you’re no longer her student?
The fantasy of her taking you out to dinner after implants itself in your mind. Her approving smile as she toasts you with another glass of wine. Maybe her foot resting against your shin because she loves to tease.
And after, she’d take you to her car and press you against the outside of it. Whisper about how she’s been wanting to do this for the longest time and how you’ve been so good waiting for her.
You’re a good girl.
The line grows shorter and you’re almost to the entrance. Morgan is still talking about psychology and you try to tune back in.
“—and I was thinking maybe I could double major in psychology, you know? Like, maybe it’d be helpful with political science. Especially if I wanted to go on and be a lawyer. But even for just being able to relate to the constituents when I run for office.”
You hum. “I could see that being helpful.”
She shrugs like it’s a toss-up. “But I decided to minor in communications. My advisor—and my dad—said it’s a good combination.”
The line keeps moving and you pry off your phone case to grab your ID. You didn’t want to have to carry a wallet around so you stuck that and your credit card behind your case. Morgan’s pants have pockets, unlike your skirt, and while you could’ve asked her to hold your wallet, this seemed effective as well.
The bouncer waves you both in and you step into the bar. Alfie’s just opened about a month ago and it’s clearly the place to be, even on a Wednesday night.
It’s a neat place, you think. Very 1970s, as the theme of the bar is stated. The entire room is encased in a fluorescent orange light, reflected by a mirror-ball spinning on the ceiling, there’s a DJ booth in a corner with a record player on the table and vinyls hung on the walls all around him, the bar itself is in the middle of the room, shaped like a rectangle, with green marble countertops and stools. There’s bottles of alcohol on a shelf jutting from the load-bearing wall that connects the ends of the bar and cool glass panes run from the floor to the ceiling on it. Old music that you know from driving in your dad’s car with him pumps over the speakers.
The main room flows into a smaller one, where there's already people in line for the bathrooms and then there’s a section with disco floor tiles and couches around it. Only a few people are on the floor but they look like they’re having the time of their life.
“This is a cool place!” you yell to Morgan, who has to lean in to hear you over the song and the busy chatter. “Do you want a drink?”
She looks over to the bar top, which is packed like sardines in a can. “I’ll go find us a table while you get us something? I’ll just have one of whatever you get.”
You nod and try to push yourself between two people. You spot some people who look to be your age on the adjacent side also trying to flag the bartender down and you think you might be here awhile.
A lone menu is laying on the counter about a foot away from you and you’re able to slide it over easily with the smooth marble. You hold it up and then away from your body, trying to make out the words in the bright light. They have cocktails, martinis, hard liquor, and wine. Chewing on your lip, you read the cocktail list a few times, trying to discern which would taste the best and which one Morgan would also like.
Fingertips drums on the counter in front of you and you look up to see the bartender standing in front of you. She has long red hair and a tattoo of a snake on her neck that runs down into her black tank top. “Do you know what you want, love?”
You take one last look at the menu. “Can I get two Pink Ladies?” Gin, lemon, grenadine, and orange bitters. Sounds like a good combination, at least better than some of the others.
She nods and turns away to start to make them.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a low voice drawls in your ear and the air around you fills with a familiar scent.
“Professor,” you chuckle, tilting your body to let her slide up next to you. Agatha smirks. You can’t stop your eyes from wandering and taking in her outfit and your jaw goes slack.
She’s wearing a black dress that falls down to just below her knees, high collar, and the long-sleeves are mesh and see-through. It’s tight, hugging her curves in all the right ways. Her hair is pulled back in a low pony-tail, her shorter strands hanging loose. Different earrings from last night hang from her earlobes but they match the rings on her fingers. Her lips are painted red and you try to not stare at them. Her heels are open-toed and you can see the maroon nail polish on her toes, complementing the same shade on her fingers.
It’s a far cry from the casual blazer over the t-shirt and pants she was wearing in class earlier. You started learning about the Biological approach and it was definitely not as exciting as the Trait approach. It felt weird just strolling into the room after last night, just having to act like nothing happened.
But there’s the same classic twinkle gleams in her icy-blue eyes as she looks at you now.
It feels like the atmosphere between you two has changed since last night—it's almost become more level. Like she’s no longer holding all the cards.
“Drinking on a school night?” she asks in the husky voice that makes you shiver.
The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Didn’t seem to bother you last night.”
Agatha’s brows raise at your retort before tossing her head back with a laugh. “Well, that’s because I was there to keep you in check. You know, make sure there weren’t any bad decisions being made.”
If you had taken a chance and kissed her, would that have been a bad decision? Not that you ever would, unless she fully gave you permission, but you still wonder.
“Well, you’re also here on a school night,” you point out and your breath catches when Agatha slides the menu out from under your fingertips, her knuckle brushing against yours.
The bartender puts down two circular glasses with a liquid the color of watermelon pink and a lot of ice. She picks out two straws from the container and slides them into the drinks. You hand over your credit card.
“Do you want to start a tab?” she asks and you sneak a peek over to Agatha before shaking your head. The bartender takes your card and goes to charge it as you pick up your drink and enclose your lips over the straw.
Your professor watches intently as you take your first sip and flavor explodes on your tongue. It’s fruity and a bit sour but there’s only a hint of alcohol that you can taste. It’s not bad.
Agatha taps the menu. “Which one did you get?”
“The Pink Lady.” She hums and reads the description and you take a chance. You hold your drink out to her. “Want to try?”
She smiles slyly and leans over, lips sucking on the straw. Your mouth goes dry. She pulls back and hums, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Pretty good,” she decides while you stare at her.
The bartender comes back with your card and jolts you out of your stupor. She looks at Agatha, who orders a whiskey soda.
“Where’s your plus one?” Agatha asks, nodding to Morgan’s drink. “If those are both for you, I think I’d have to report you.”
You snort at her teasing tone and scan the crowd for any sign of your date. “She’s around here somewhere.” You think you see a flash of dark hair from somewhere in the corner.
When you turn back to Agatha, you see that her teeth are slightly gritted, but other than that, she’s the picture of composure.
She doesn’t say anything, so you take a long sip, feeling the alcohol course through your veins, before you ask, “So, uh, what are you doing here?”
“A couple other professors and I thought we’d check this place out,” Agatha says, pointing behind you. You turn to see two men and a woman lift their hands in greetings. You recognize the other woman and one of the men from previous classes. “We do have lives outside of the university, you know.”
“Oh, yeah?” You smirk and her eyes light up. “You’re not just in bed by eight o’clock in pajamas, reading the newspaper or something?”
Agatha scoffs. “How old do you think I am?”
You lean in closer, unable to stop from laughing, and motion around to the bar. “I mean, you were alive in the seventies, weren’t you?”
Her mouth drops open in mock offense and you take your straw between your teeth, smiling at her from around it. She shakes her head like you’re really going to get it, and then warns, “You better be careful.”
“Or what?” you challenge and the air changes.
Instead of being playful, it becomes charged. Agatha’s eyes lock onto yours and the bar fades away—it’s just the two of you again. She bites her lip and you chew on the straw, both of you afraid to break the moment.
Agatha takes a step toward you, one of her hands coming up to ghost over your cheek, and you don’t move a muscle. Her eyes dart over to look behind you and you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that three of her colleagues and your date are somewhere in this very room. At least she can check on her colleagues and make sure they’re not watching.
But it’s like the switch goes off in her head and she backs away. You immediately miss her warmth. She regards you, trying to figure out a comeback, but there’s nothing.
“Here’s your whiskey, ma’am,” the bartender says, putting down a glass of dark liquid down before Agatha. “Do you want to start a tab?”
“Oh, no, I’m okay,” she says and pulls out her card. She takes a long sip and you stare at the liquid that beads on her lips when she puts the glass down and looks at you. “I’d offer you a sip but I’m not sure you could handle it.”
Whiskey has never been your thing; it’s got way too strong of a taste, but you’ll be damned if you let her be right. And maybe you want to show her that you can handle more than she thinks.
So you steal the glass from her hand, brushing your fingers against hers, and take a swig. Immediately, you want to spit it out but you swallow the whole thing and chase it with a gulp of your cocktail.
Agatha looks impressed when you hand her back the glass. “Good girl,” she murmurs and a flush of heat tears through you. The bartender comes back with her check and your professor signs it without even looking down.
She straightens up, holding her glass with her pinkie at the bottom and thumb tracing a line on the rim, and you know that she’s about to leave you.
“For the record,” she starts and you watch her expectantly, “if I’m in bed by eight, I’m certainly not reading the newspaper.”
“Oh?” you rasp, a tingling in your veins. “What are you doing, then?”
Agatha smirks knowingly. “Enjoy your night, hon.”
She breezes past you, leaving you in a cloud of her perfume, the only real indication that she was there.
You pick up both drinks and glide through the crowd to find Morgan standing at a table tucked against the wall on her phone. She looks up when you put down her glass.
“God, that took you forever,” she remarks, taking a long sip. She sighs happily. “This really is a busy place.”
“Yeah, the bartender kept skipping me,” you lie, thinking it’s better not to tell her that the professor you have a massive crush on was holding you up. You can see Agatha through the people standing in the middle of the floor. She’s deep in conversation with the other professors, but every now and then, she’ll look over and you’ll make eye contact.
Each time it happens, you feel a jolt run down your spine.
Morgan peers at someone behind you. “I think that kid’s in my class,” she says, pointing. You turn and it’s a group of boys. You think you’ve seen some of them around campus.
“Do you want to go say hi?” you ask, not sure if that’s what she’s hinting at.
She shrugs. “I’d rather dance.”
“Oh—well, that can be arranged,” you say with a grin and you grab her hand and lead her to the dancefloor. A song that you don’t know is playing so you and Morgan just sway to the beat while still working on your drinks.
Out of your periphery, you can see Agatha now openly staring at you.
Emboldened, and maybe feeling the gin a little, you wrap a hand around Morgan’s lower back and pull her against you. She lets out a little noise but puts her free hand over your shoulder. The music picks up, the beat thumping in your veins, and you and Morgan start moving against each other.
It’s a bit harder with the drinks in your hands and you’re careful not to spill them on each other as you start to grind on one another. It’s not really the right music for sensual dancing, but you two lose yourself in it. Your movements are over-exaggerated because you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you.
Your hand intertwines in Morgan’s hair, your forehead resting against hers, and she leans down to take a sip of your own drink. It’s intimate and Agatha scowls.
Morgan pulls back and spins around and you untangle your fingers from her hair and wrap that arm around her stomach. She rubs herself against you and you shoot Agatha a scandalizing wink, the ability to think twice about anything eluding you.
Agatha swallows the rest of her whiskey in one gulp.
Morgan turns back to you and you know what she’s going to do before she does it.
Her lips meet yours in an open-mouth, sloppy kiss because you’re both a little tipsy now. You hardly feel anything, hardly notice anything except for the buzzing in your head and the heavy weight of Agatha’s glare.
Agatha—
You break the kiss, strands of saliva still connecting you to Morgan, and look over to where you know your professor is.
Just in time to see her slam her glass on the table, say something to her colleagues, and storm out of the bar.
Fuck.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” you tell Morgan, who nods and lets you go. You drop your glass on a random table, ignoring the calls of the people sitting there, and chase after her. You shoulder open the exit door and barely even feel the pain shooting through your arm.
The line outside the bar has dwindled to about five people now and in the distance, you see Agatha. She turns the corner into the little alleyway that you and Morgan were standing by earlier and when you skid to a stop in front of it, Agatha is standing a few yards in front of you, back facing you, arms crossed over her chest.
She’s waiting, like she knew you’d come after her.
You clear your throat and take a step closer. “Are you okay?” You’re not sure what to expect—maybe a declaration of how she feels or maybe she was just feeling sick or overwhelmed—but when she turns around, she looks mad.
Fire burns in her eyes and you feel cold fear dripping in your blood.
“You’re not being very subtle,” she snarls, advancing toward you, but you stand your ground. Whatever you were expecting, or hoping for, was not this. You didn’t think she would be angry.
“What are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.
Agatha scoffs, her face contorting into something wicked. She is a completely different person than when she came up to you at the bar but there’s something hot about her like this. You get it now—she’s jealous.
You like when she’s jealous.
“Parading around with someone who looks just like me? Dancing like that?” It strikes a nerve, she sees it in your eyes. She smirks. “Tell me that’s not what you’re doing.”
“It’s not,” you say, but your voice wavers.
She steps closer—close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath. It’s dark and heavy. Her perfume clouds your senses and your judgment, like it always does.
Agatha leans in, her face right against your ear and if you turned your head even an inch to the side, your lips would touch hers.
But you can’t move.
“Are you sure?” She draws out the sure, making it nothing more than a low hiss, and you fight the urge to shudder.
Agatha pulls back and flicks your chin up with two fingers, a stretched grin making her look mean. You shake your head, refusing to meet her eyes because you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop yourself from doing something that you can’t.
“You said we had to wait—”
“Don’t,” she snaps, holding up her hand. She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, eyes closing.
What is going on? Why is she doing this?
“Professor,” you breathe, you implore. “Agatha.”
It’s the first time you’ve ever said her name.
It’s a break in the facade you two have been keeping up. The facade that she’s just your professor and you’re just her student.
There’s no way you can go on pretending that anymore.
Agatha drops her hand and looks at you, something dangerous and new written on her face. Her eyes are dark and they make a chill run through you when she claims you with them.
“Tell me you think about me when you’re with her,” she urges, demands, and you’re almost afraid to venture into this otherwise unknown territory.
What happens if you say yes?
“You made that pointed comment about transference outside the pizza place that night,” you rasp. The unspoken words of you already know are brimming beneath the surface—who will uncover them first?
Agatha remains determined and clucks her tongue. “I want to hear you say it.”
You chance a glance down at her mouth and her tongue peeks out to lick her lips. If you say yes, will she give you what you want?
What you both want?
Your heart is pounding louder than it ever has before, so loud you can barely hear yourself whisper, “Yes.”
She finally looks satisfied. Agatha smugly nods to herself in victory, composure settling back over her face, and turns on her heel. Her hair flips over her shoulder, almost hitting you in the process.
You watch her stroll away from you—should you call after her? beg her to stay?—and down the entire length of the sidewalk until she vanishes around the building. You stand by yourself for what feels like hours, just dumbfounded, until finally going back inside in a trance-like manner. Disappointment is cutting a hole into your stomach—you were so close to something.
But then Agatha just walked away from you.
And she knows now that you like her. That you want her. That you imagine you’re with her when you're with Morgan.
She seemed only too delighted in that fact.
The gleam in her eyes, the way she made you say it, like she needed to hear it. Like she didn’t already know how crazy she was driving you, or maybe she just wanted the satisfaction of confirming it.
But you got to her too, no matter how much she pretends to be in control. She was the one who got jealous and stormed out when you were dancing with Morgan.
Morgan, who didn’t even notice you were gone. You find her now talking to the boy she pointed out earlier about their shared class and she barely looks up when you sidle next to her. Your body is on fire, your breathing is ragged, and there’s a throbbing between your legs that is consuming you.
“Are you ready to go?” you whisper in her ear and she glances at you for a mere second. “Maybe we could go back to your place?
At the suggestion in your tone, she perks up. “Ryan, I’ll see you tomorrow?” she says to the boy and he nods, looking a little dejected.
You order an Uber as you’re pulling her out of the bar by the hand and it’s parked out front of the bar in a matter of minutes. You look around one last time for any sign of your professor, but she is gone. Did she text the teachers she was with that she had to run? Or did she just up and leave with no warning, just because of you?
It was risky for her to appear so bothered, but it only makes the pulsing of your clit worse to know that she didn’t care.
The drive back to Morgan’s apartment is only about twenty minutes, and it’s twenty minutes of you squirming in your seat and Morgan giving you a look every now and then.
“You okay?” she finally asks quietly. The driver turns his head slightly to the side so he can make sure to hear your answer over the softly playing music.
You nod. “Yeah, just excited to get back.”
When the car pulls up in front of her dorm building, you throw the door open and get out, barely remembering to thank the driver. You’ll give him five stars later. Morgan struts to the lobby door, key fob in hand.
She had been waiting outside when you picked her up earlier, so you linger behind her while she shoves open the door to the stairs. You take two-at-a-time to the third floor and she walks down the long carpeted hallway to the door at the end.
“Are your roommates home?” you ask, voice cracking.
Morgan slides her key into the lock. “Even if they are, we can just go to my room. This is one of the four-fours.” Four bedrooms and four bathrooms. God, how nice that must be. While you love sharing a room with Wanda, you do wish you had more space a lot of the time.
Especially some private space. And your own bathroom?
“You’re living the life,” you say in awe and Morgan huffs out a chuckle.
The door opens into darkness, the only light coming from the moon in the window, and you carefully follow her to the second bedroom on the left.
She flicks on the light and closes her bedroom door and you take it in. She has a full-sized bed with a mossy green duvet and white pillows, a leafy plant in a translucent purple vase on the nightstand, fairy lights and artificial vines hanging from the walls. You kick off your shoes and feel the soft, plush rug under your feet as you step over to look at the pictures on her walls. There’s a lot of her and her dad, her in town hall meetings, her with friends.
“This is a really nice room,” you breathe. What does Agatha’s room look like? You’re picturing something modern, something upscale. Definitely a lot of psychology books.
Morgan’s hands slide on your hips and you turn around to face her. Her eyes look more green than blue with her eyeliner. You hadn’t noticed that earlier. Her hair is mussed up from dancing at the bar, effortlessly pretty. You cup her cheeks and she smiles, pink lips contrasting with her perfect white teeth.
You pull her to you, mouths meeting in the middle, and you can taste the fruity drink you both had earlier. It’s a soft kiss at first, just tentative brushes against each other, but then you inhale through your nose and smell her perfume.
It’s suddenly Agatha that you’re kissing and one of your hands trails down to her lower back to press her closer against you. The coffee and vanilla and spice—the scent seems darker, almost—swirls around your head and you moan.
Tell me you think about me when you’re with her.
She pushes up your shirt and you gasp at her fingertips on your bare skin. Heat seeps through to your stomach and you grip her closer. Her tongue languidly moves against yours, a stark contrast to the urgency pooling inside you.
How much more of this can you take?
You reach down and tear off your shirt and then hers, your lips immediately dropping down to nip at her collarbone. You feel her chest flare under your mouth and a thrill runs through you.
Tell me that’s not what you’re doing.
Everything is happening so fast. Her scent and taste overwhelms you and you breathe hotly against her pale skin. Her fingers creep up your back and unclasp your bra. She glides it down your arms while you now suck at her cleavage and she gasps.
You’re pulled up by your hair, her lips clash against yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss with your eyes still closed.
Fingers play with the hem of your skirt and when her skin brushes against your lower stomach, there’s a tug from behind your navel to your cunt. Your hands push down her bra over her breasts and cup them, thumbs rolling her nipple. She moans.
I want to hear you say it.
“Yes,” you gasp and she slides her hand down and underneath your skirt. You feel like you’re floating outside your own body, like this pleasure isn’t really yours. How strong was that drink? You can taste it on her breath still, the lemon and the grenadine and the orange bitters. The gin.
Your chest heaves and you see Agatha smirking at you, taunting you with condescending praise about how needy you are for her. You are needy for her—you don’t think there’s anything you’ve ever wanted this much.
She finds your clit over your underwear and presses on it and you keen loudly. Your sounds are swallowed by her mouth and you frantically moan for more. You grip onto her wrist, feeling the muscles tense as she moves to stroke her fingers over your clothed slit.
“Please—fuck,” you groan.
She pushes the gusset of your panties over and skates her warm fingers through your swollen folds and you bite down on her lip to keep yourself from crying out. Her breath catches and she teases your entrance. Your walls are already clenching around nothing, your clit sensitive and aching, and her perfume is just making you wetter.
“Please,” you beg again.
You finally get what you want—her finger pushes slowly into you and your mouth drops open, panting against her lips. It’s good, so good, but you need so much more.
A second finger enters you and your hips jerk.
You’re a good girl.
“Yes, fuck, yes—Agatha,” you breathe and immediately your muscles stiffen. You hear a slight choking sound and your eyelashes flutter open to see a pair of shocked green eyes.
Not blue.
Morgan stares back at you, hurt written all over her face.
Warnings: fingering, strap, sex, mommy kink, fluff, it's almost all smut
You’ve just gotten back to your dorm room Friday afternoon after all your classes when your phone buzzes in your pocket.
It’s been a rough day with a pop quiz in Chemistry that you definitely failed and your group chat for the World History project has been blowing up, mostly with excuses as to why your other members haven’t been able to do their share of the work, so you can only imagine what it is now.
And to make matters worse, you had gone to your dad’s last night for dinner and when you had gone to the bathroom, you had found a box of condoms under his sink when you were looking for more toilet paper. It hit you like a train but you had fixed your face in the mirror and not said a word to him or to your mom when she inevitably called you after it to ask how it went. You didn’t want to talk to Agatha about it either, just because she had been married to him and it felt weird to complain or vent about that.
The only thing you want to do is collapse into Agatha’s comforting embrace and have her hold you. You are so fucking exhausted.
When you pull your phone out, you breathe a heavy sigh of relief when you see that it is Agatha. Your stomach warms. You’ve watched the video she sent you on Tuesday more times than you can count—you’ve touched yourself to it more times than you could count as well. After you got back to your dorm after dinner with Carol, she had sent you the second half of the video, in which she filmed herself coming while moaning your name.
You can still hear her breathy gasps and it’s been very distracting the past few days.
Hey, hon! Hope your day has been good. Would you be able to go to your car and send me a picture of your license plate so I can get it registered for when you come to stay with me?
You flop onto your bed and close your eyes for a few moments before whining quietly. She hasn’t texted you since this morning and now all she wants is for you to go back downstairs and take a picture of your car? Your mind is screaming at you to just do it tomorrow but you reluctantly sit up with a groan and trudge outside. At least now she’s talking to you.
The sunlight blinds you and you squint, rounding the corner of the building, and trying to remember where you parked. It’s been a few days since you drove and now you accidentally walk down the wrong row about three times.
Until you finally spot the front of it and you grumble as you walk around it and freeze—Agatha is standing right there in a casual gray blouse and black pants. Her hair is loose and catches the sunlight, making it appear a lighter shade than it is. Her blue eyes are full of joy.
“What…what are you doing here?” you ask, completely dumbfounded, but your heart swells and you laugh, taking a step closer to her and reaching out your hand to touch her just to make sure you’re not hallucinating.
She’s really there.
“Surprise?” she says sheepishly, holding out her arms and you laugh, completely giddy, as you jump into them. The force almost knocks you both down but she catches you with an oomph. You breathe in her scent and feel her hair tickle your cheeks and her fingers gently stroke your back and you can’t believe that she’s actually here.
Why is she here?
You pull back and scan her face. “I thought you had meetings this weekend.”
Agatha smiles and cups your cheek lovingly. “I did but then they got cancelled for tomorrow—something about the client having food poisoning? I was able to get out of work early today and thought I would come see you. And,” she leans in, a wicked grin on her face, “I got a hotel room.”
She slides her hands to your lower back so she can hold you tighter against her and with a sharp inhale, you feel a hardness in her pants. Your brain suddenly goes foggy and your knees almost buckle.
“Fuck,” you breathe and she nods. You feel an ache start to grow in your cunt. “Can we go now?”
Agatha chuckles and takes you by the hand to lead you to her car. You don’t have anything besides your phone and your keys, but the only thing on your mind is her.
You know you should ask about her job and New York and how she’s been doing, but it’s hard to concentrate over the thrumming of arousal in your veins and you squirm restlessly as you watch her fingers curl around the steering wheel. It’s only been a week and it’s not that you haven’t had an orgasm at all—it’s just so much different, and better, now that she’s here.
Agatha clearly feels the same urgency with quick glances to catch your eye and twitches of her hands like she’s trying to resist touching you. You have no doubt that she would already have her hand down your pants if it weren’t for the last time she tried to do that and almost crashed. She presses on the gas pedal harder than she needs to and the car shoots off down the road.
It’s as if the stoplights know where you’re going and are determined to make you wait—you hit every single red light and each time, Agatha and you both groan like you’ve been denied the world’s greatest luxury. At one point, she gets so fed up with it that she makes a right turn, a U-turn, and then another right faster than the light changes.
The air is thick with heat and tension and unspoken words brimmering just beneath the surface of the silence and finally, finally, she pulls into the parking lot of the Westview Inn, one of the nicer hotels in the town.
You both throw open the doors and when you begin following her to the entrance, you can feel the stickiness between your thighs that has pooled from the anticipation. Your stomach begins to twist, butterflies fluttering for no reason, and your palms feel clammy.
But then Agatha turns back to smile reassuringly at you from the front desk where she’s checking in and you push it away. You wipe your hands on your pants, eyes darting down to check out the swell of Agatha’s ass. There’s the sudden image of your fingers digging into her skin as she thrusts into you and you shift, antsy now with desire.
“Thank you,” Agatha says, voice curt and short, to the receptionist, before swiping the keys from her hand and walking back toward you. She breezes past you and you jog to catch up to the elevators. Agatha taps the roomkey against her hand impatiently while you wait and finally, the doors ding open.
She clicks the button for the fifth floor and the moment the doors shut, she’s pressing you against the side and her mouth is on yours. You moan and the sound is swallowed by her and her tongue is moving against yours and you close your eyes to soak her in. She tastes of cinnamon and coffee and you suck on her bottom lip to savor it.
The elevator stops and Agatha practically drags you by the hand to room 513. Your shoes are soft against the plush gray carpet, low lights on the plastered walls, and you wonder how many other people come here for a romantic rendezvous with their lover.
This is the hotel that Agatha stayed at after she moved out of the house she shared with your dad and walking down the hall gives you a sense of déjà vu.
The room looks exactly the same. The fuzzy dark carpet, the small kitchenette, square table with two chairs, and the mossy green couch across from the television. Past the combined living room and kitchen is the narrow hallway to the bedroom, doors to the bathroom and the closet facing each other on the sides.
The only real difference is the painting that hangs in the living room. The one in Agatha’s old room was of a dock on a lake. This one is a ferris wheel.
You can’t help but think it’s almost fitting. Even though so much has changed since then, ending up back here like you have something to hide is a full-circle moment.
Will you ever get off the wheel?
Once you move to New York, you assure yourself. There won’t be any more sneaking around, if that’s even what this is.
“Just like old times,” Agatha says fondly. You smile halfheartedly, the thought of no real progress being made yet sobering you up just a little, but then she pulls you in closer and kisses you softly. The hardness in her pants presses against your upper thigh and you lose yourself in the feeling of her.
She cups your cheeks to deepen the kiss and you wrap your arms around her shoulders. You pour all of your emotions into it—the joy at seeing her and how sad you’ve been without her and how much you’ve missed her and how much you love her.
Agatha starts to walk backwards, pulling you with her, and you don’t ever want to let her go.
The king-sized bed is so perfectly made that it almost feels wrong to mess it up. Agatha must be thinking the same thing because she pushes you gently against the wall and slots a thigh between yours for you to grind on. She tugs on your bottom lip with her teeth and you groan, slowly rutting against her leg. The pressure on your clit is delicious but fleeting and you hike one of your own legs up to get a better angle. Agatha’s hand slips to the back of your thigh to hold you up like that and she presses her thigh against you harder.
“Agatha,” you pant, “I need you.”
She smirks against your lips and her fingers slide up, now splayed against your hip, and she helps you move against her, helps you settle into a rhythm. The pleasure is dulled by the three layers of fabric separating your cunt from her leg but you grind down harder to feel more. Her other hand strokes up your side, her heat seeping through your shirt, and it makes your core feel like molten liquid. It feels like the room is spinning, like you’re drunk on her, and you whimper into her mouth.
“What do you need, baby?” she murmurs. She pulls back from you, just a hair, so her gaze can smugly flick from your eyes down to your swollen lips and back up.
You take her hand from your side and without breaking eye contact, drag it down your body until your fingers pause at the waistband of your pants. She toys with the hem, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Is this what you want?” she asks innocently, dipping the tips of her fingers down inside. You moan at her bare skin against your public bone and nod frantically. She chuckles, breath heavy, and slides her fingers further until her middle finger is resting against your clit. You sharply inhale and she smiles. “How about this?”
You keen when she presses against your clit and rubs a small circle around it, your hips jerking. Her hand is now sandwiched between your cunt and her thigh and you slightly pull up so she can have a little more room to work.
She watches your face carefully as she moves her fingers to tease at your entrance through your panties, watches how your jaw slackens and your teeth find your bottom lip. Her eyes are hooded as they scan your face and the heat in them sends currents right to your cunt.
“Please,” you whine. Agatha leans in to ghost her lips over yours as she pushes her fingers into your entrance slightly, soaking your underwear even more. You gasp.
“I know you can do better than that,” she says in a low, taunting voice and expertly peels the gusset of your underwear to the side.
Your hips rock but her fingers are hovering just out of reach from your cunt, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off them. “Please, Agatha,” you pant, chasing her lips with your own before pulling back, “I need you to fuck me, I’ve missed you so much, please mommy—”
Two of her fingers plunge into your cunt and your jaw drops with a guttural moan. Your eyes roll back in your head and your walls clench around her tightly. She lets out a small gasp and her forehead drops to rest against yours.
“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this—I’ve missed you,” she groans and draws her fingers out of you. Your hips buck to get her touch back and she quickly resheathes her fingers inside you. She curls them and finds your special spot, the spot she always intuitively knows how to find because she might know you better than you know yourself at this point.
Her thumb swipes at your clit and you spasm, back arching off the wall and burying your hands into her dark locks. You hike your leg up higher against her waist with her help so she can get deeper and the pressure in your core makes you see stars. She’s moving fast and rough and you yelp when she twists her fingers inside you harshly.
You pull her even closer against you, crash your lips onto hers, and moan into her open mouth. She returns it, tongue sloppily stroking yours, and you feel light, almost like you could float away.
But you’re grounded when she starts to rub your clit and your core muscles tighten. Her lips trail down your cheek and to your neck where she sucks on your skin. A thrill runs through you at the thought of having marks from her, so when she goes back to New York you can look at your reflection and remember that she owns you. That you’re all hers.
She scrapes her teeth along the length of your jugular and then bites at the juncture of your shoulder and neck and you make a strangled noise.
And then Agatha stills her fingers inside you with a wicked grin and you struggle to keep the rhythm going, furiously grinding back and forth and trying to make up for the stimulation you just lost. With each roll of your hips, her fingers are forced deeper and she bites her lip while she watches you.
“Agatha, please,” you beg, pleading with your eyes, and she smirks.
“What is it, baby?” she coos and slowly begins thrusting into you again. Your head falls back against the wall, mouth agape. “Need mommy’s fingers to fuck you good? Need mommy to fill you up the way only I can?”
You nod frantically and she smiles, satisfied.
“That’s my girl.”
She scissors her fingers and then curls and then pauses to fit a third one into you. You keen again, wetness squelching with each of her thrusts. You’re so full and tension is spreading throughout your whole body. You gasp each time she drives her fingers back into you and you’re a panting, shaking mess.
Just for her.
“Agatha, mommy, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come,” you babble and she huffs out a laugh and rubs your clit faster. Sparks fly in your stomach and up your spine and your cunt grips her fingers.
She pulls your leg that’s bent at her waist up even higher and her fingers reach a new depth inside you and the tension in your body explodes and you come all over her hand with a long moan. Her fingers keep fucking you, slowing down only the slightest bit, until you have to weakly push at her shoulders to get a break.
Agatha pulls her fingers out of you carefully but you still wince at the sudden emptiness before bringing her hand out of your pants and holding up her glistening digits to the afternoon light streaming in through the blinds.
Without being asked, you grab her wrist and envelope her fingers in your mouth, moaning sultrily at the taste of yourself. Her pupils dilate even more, almost no blue left at all, and she tugs her fingers out and sucks them into her own mouth. It’s like the air gets kicked out of your lungs when she closes her eyes and hums, like the mixture of your pussy and your saliva is too much for her to bear.
When her fingers slide out with a wet pop, you drag her to you again by her hair, connecting your lips in the middle and your faint taste on her tongue dances with the hint of cinnamon.
She pulls back, spins the two of you around, and then gently pushes you toward the bed. You take the hint, stripping off your shirt, underwear, and pants in the process, and watch in awe, perched on the edge of the bed, as she takes off her clothes too.
“Did you drive all the way here with that on?” you tease, nodding your head to the harness around her hips with your favorite purple strap-on protruding from it.
Agatha chuckles and strokes the length with her wet hand and you can see the smears of your juices along it. “Don’t be silly. I put it on once I got here. But thinking about it the whole drive? Fuck.” She moves closer to the bed like a lion stalking its prey. She stops right in front of you and tilts your head up by your chin even though your eyes keep darting back down to the toy. “Almost had to pull over to take care of myself.”
Your breath catches at the image of her in her parked car on the side of the highway, hand furiously working in her pants.
She smirks. “But you’re going to take care of mommy, aren’t you? Once mommy takes care of you?”
“Anything you want,” you say earnestly. Everything is already yours.
“That’s my good girl,” Agatha says softly and your insides grow warm. She strokes your cheek, a moment of gentleness in the otherwise hot and heavy sea you’ve been swimming in.
You yearn for more, but the ache inside your cunt is throbbing. The toy is only a few inches away from you when you look back down and you grab ahold of the tip and pull her to you.
Slowly reclining back onto the bed, she follows until she’s looming over you, arms bracketed around your head. Your fingers are still wrapped around the strap-on and you start to stroke it. Judging by the way her face contorts with pleasure, she can at least feel the base rub against her clit with each drag of your hand.
Agatha leans down to pepper kisses to your chest. She runs her tongue along the edge of your bra, a trail of goosebumps following in the wake, and you moan softly. You angle the toy so the tip is pressed against your clit and you raise your hips up to rub. It feels so good against your sensitive nub and you can feel how slick your inner thighs are. The wetness between them only keeps growing.
It doesn’t take long for you to work yourself up again but Agatha either doesn't notice or wants to drag it out, as she merely moves to mouthing at your nipple through your bra.
So you grip onto her shoulders and tense your body and flip so she’s on her back and you’re on top of her.
Agatha chuckles adoringly and runs her hands up your sides and fiddles with your bra. “Take it off, baby,” she rasps. “I want to see you.”
Heat flashes through you and you nod, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Agatha swallows hard and cups your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples.
She’s still in her bra, a lacy green one, and you paw at it, desperate to see her too. She chuckles and sits up for a moment, unclasping it and then shrugging it off her shoulders. Her nipples are hard and pointing, a dusty rose color, and you can’t resist the urge to bend down and suckle on one of them. She moans and arches up beneath you, pushing the toy against your pussy and you grind down. You scrape your teeth against her, enjoying her sharp breath, before settling back onto her lap.
You reach between you to position the tip at your entrance and sit down just slightly. The head of the toy pops in and your head falls back at the stretch.
“Fuck,” you groan, slowly starting to bounce on the tip to get used to it. Your walls burn but eventually accommodate the length and girth and you’re able to slide all the way down. You stay seated, feeling how deep she is inside you and Agatha begins to rub at your clit soothingly.
“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s cock so well,” she croons and you clench around her. Every breath you take, you can feel her filling you up deliciously. You nod, more to yourself than to her, because it’s been awhile since you’ve had anything so big in you. “Think you can start moving?”
You rock forward in response to her pressing on your clit hard and moan when the toy presses against your g-spot. “Yeah, mommy,” you say breathlessly and slowly sit up, your cunt lips dragging against the toy.
She looks at the strap once just the tip is left inside you and lets out a guttural sound—it is absolutely coated with your wetness. Heat flares inside you and you take the length back inside you, moving down easier this time.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” she says when you begin to build up a steady pace of riding her. She thrusts her hips up with each of your drives down and you’re both panting and sweaty in no time. Agatha rubs your clit and you stop for a second to swirl your hips around, feeling her in every ridge in your cunt, and you groan loudly.
“Mommy, feels so good,” you whine, resting your hands on her ribcage to get more leverage to continue moving up and down on the toy. You dig your nails in and when you slide your fingers up to play with her boobs, you delight in the indents in her pale skin.
“I know, baby,” Agatha grunts, pistoning her hips up hard now and making you gasp each time. She’s hitting so deep inside you and there’s an intense, hot pressure feeling inside you. Your movements grow sloppy and gradually turn into short, shallow rutting because your muscles are starting to get stiff, but you try to persevere. “You’re taking mommy’s cock so well, fuck, honey, you’re so pretty—such a good girl for me.”
Her words make you stutter and you whimper while you writhe on top of her. She sees your struggle and grips onto your hips before flipping you over, a role reversal mirroring your one from earlier. The toy never leaves your cunt but you clench around her tightly when she shoves your legs up and you bend your knees to cross your ankles around her lower back. Agatha drops to her forearms, face merely inches away from yours, and she begins driving the strap into you over and over roughly.
There’s no thoughts in your head and you think you’re babbling something incoherently because she’s smiling down at you, cheeks red, forehead vein throbbing. Her nose brushes against yours and she’s breathing into your open mouth, you’re breathing her air right back, and she suddenly slows her pace down. Her eyes scan your face with a seriousness you haven’t seen before.
“What—mommy—Agatha—” you gasp and she stops entirely, toy hilted all the way in you. Your walls clench around her, trying to get her to start moving again, but she has a strange look on her face.
Agatha strokes your hair and meets your eyes. “I love you,” she whispers and your breath catches in your throat.
“What?”
She laughs like that’s a ridiculous thing for you to say and kisses you softly. Your clit throbs.
When she pulls back, you study her. She’s not looking at you with any expectation, just honesty. “I love you, too,” you say softly.
She smiles and thrusts into you, just once, but it’s deep. Your walls tighten and you inhale sharply.
“I said it before, you know,” you tell her and Agatha thrusts again. “When we were on your couch.”
She begins to pick up her pace, but keeps it gentle. Loving. “I know,” she admits and you gape at her. “I didn’t know if it was just a spur of the moment thing. You didn’t say it again and I didn’t want to freak you out by asking about it. But—” Agatha kisses you before nipping at your bottom lip, “—I’ve been wanting to say it for a while.”
You roll your hips up to match each of her thrusts and feel a pleasure greater than almost anything you’ve ever felt before. She reaches down between you to rub at your clit again and your walls convulse.
“I have, too,” you say and she smirks, scooting up closer to you which forces your legs up higher and allows her to get even deeper. Her fingers slip off your clit with how much of a soaked mess you are and you arch your back off the bed. Your vision blurs from pleasure and electricity races underneath your skin.
“Fuck, baby, I love you so much,” Agatha groans, her other hand digging into your hip, keeping you angled up as she pounds into you. With the way she’s faltering ever-so-slightly, you think she might be getting somewhere too. “You’re so fucking perfect—fuck, you’re mommy’s good girl, want you to come all over my cock, honey, please—fuck, I’m gonna—”
Your moan interrupts her as you come, any resolve you had left absolutely shattering, and there’s a gush of wetness from your pussy that soaks her stomach. She groans and falls apart too, her lips crashing onto yours, messy but perfect and even though you need to breathe, you don’t pull away.
You never want to.
She fucks you through both of your orgasms, whispering “I love you” over and over, but the words never lose their meaning. You say it right back and it overlaps until everything bleeds together and then her mouth is on yours again for what seems like hours.
When you start to shiver, Agatha pulls out of you gingerly, smirking at the pool of liquid beneath you. You remain on your back, absolutely spent, while she climbs off the bed, unfastens the harness straps, and slides it down her legs. Your clit throbs weakly at the pink lines on her skin.
She leaves the bedroom for a moment and comes back in with a washcloth. It’s warm and wet and you gasp when she cleans your cunt off. Agatha winks knowingly and you giggle.
“Do you think you can get up for just a second?” she asks and you groan exaggeratedly before rolling off the side onto your feet. She playfully swats your ass before pulling the duvet down and gesturing for you to slide under the covers.
You happily do and the moment she gets in next to you, you curl into her and she tucks an arm around you. Your eyelids feel heavy but you fight them because you want to spend as much time with Agatha as you possibly can before she goes back.
But her warm fingers lazily stroke your back and she leans down to kiss your forehead before whispering again, “I love you,” and you fade off into sleep.
