sometimes I just wanna kiss girls (girls) - a lailvarez oneshot
idk this fandom just needs more f/f works ok so here we go. slightly nsfw.
PROMPTS ARE OPEN RN! I’M STILL OFF WORK
The gentle knock comes late at night, as per usual, and Sara isn’t exactly surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately, at least twice a week, sometimes more. She’s already in her pyjamas, gym shorts and an old t-shirt with one too many holes in it, hair up high in a messy ponytail, but she knows her late night visitor won’t mind.
When she opens the door, Laila’s expression is as guilty as always. She’s obviously working through some issues here, but if this is how she does it, Sara’s not going to complain.
“Can I come in?”, Laila asks, like every night, as if Sara was going to say no. She just steps to the side and lets Laila in, and that’s how it is. The door closes behind them and they’re alone in Sara’s dorm room. Thank fuck for single rooms and parents who can pay for them.
Laila is still in her sundress from this afternoon, and Sara remembers immediately how hard it was to not look at her cleavage in it. It’s the same smoky, gray-ish purple as Laila’s hair, and it looks really damn good on her.
Sara goes back to her bed and flops down on it, sprawling a little but leaving enough room for Laila to join her.
The way Laila sits down on the edge of the bed is so damn dainty and elegant and repressed that it makes Sara grin, tongue running along the inside of her upper lip. She knows what’s up, alright.
“I… just thought I’d come by.” Laila smoothes the hem of her dress and crosses her legs, hands on her knee.
Sara wonders how long it will take for Laila to admit why she’s really here. They both know it, and people are starting to catch on- sometimes hickeys happen on accident.
But Laila obviously likes to pretend- and Sara, fuck, likes her enough to let her.
She sits up, bringing their faces to the same level. Like this, they’re close, and she can see Laila hold her breath, and can see the brown and gold specks in her green eyes, and can see the small scar on the side of her nose from where she apparently cut herself with a shell when she was a kid.
Laila’s hand slowly lifts from her own knee and wraps around Sara’s upper arm. She’s got a thing for Sara’s arms, and it’s kinda cute.
There’s this look on her face- wide eyed, like a doe, somewhere between helpless and horny, and it gets Sara every time. She’s weak for this girl.
And so she lifts her hands to either side of Laila’s neck and pulls her into a kiss.
Laila’s curls tickle her cheeks, and the sound she makes runs all the way down Sara’s spine.
Like always, Laila literally melts into the kiss until there’s not an inch between them left, her front plastered to Sara’s, her fingertips against Sara’s chin like butterflies. Sara pulls her into her lap, leaning back against the wall behind her bed, and Laila straddles her way too eagerly for a girl who likes to pretend she’s straight.
They dissolve into a mess of kisses and hands. The strap of Laila’s sun dress falling down her shoulder is an image burned into Sara’s brain forever. She chases it with her mouth before going lower, making Laila gasp into the space between them.
It ends with Laila on her back, one hand flat against the headboard and the other in Sara’s hair, still so careful not to tug on it even though Sara can feel her fingers flex with every soft whimper until they fade into heavy, deep, close-eyed breathing.
Sara sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and indulges in the sight of Laila like this for a second: fucked out, blushed, beautiful. Face slack, lips still swollen from kissing.
She lowers herself next to her on her bed, and Laila’s eyes flutter open, making Sara’s heart jump in her chest.
She’s going to leave now, like she does every night, find some kind of bullshit excuse that actually means “I can’t deal with what we just did so I have to go”. She’s already fixing her dress, pulling up her panties that were hanging off her ankle, stuffing everything where it’s supposed to be. Sara watches her, flowery taste in her mouth turning bitter. She steels herself for the moment of leaving.
Laila hesitates, and then rolls over to her side, facing Sara with a hand on her cheek. It’s so surprising and shocking that Sara doesn’t know what to say, how to react, and so she just lies there, looking at Laila.
There’s a determined look crossing over Laila’s face, and then she’s kissing Sara, soft and sweet.
When she pulls back, the determination is still there.
And before she can say anything, Sara blurts out “Do you wanna stay here tonight?” because she’s a god damn mess.
Laila hesitates. Longer than it’s normal, way longer, and Sara can practically see her brain overthink.
When she opens her mouth, Sara knows she’s gonna say no, she’s gonna come up with one of those damn excuses now, and-
“...yeah. Yeah, sure.” Laila gives her a tiny, insecure smile.
It stuns Sara enough to leave her speechless as Laila swings her long legs out of bed.
“I just need to get my pjs. And my toothbrush.”
When she stands, her legs wobble a little, at she lets out a little “whoo” noise, snapping Sara out of her confusion.
Laila makes her way over to the door, hesitating with her hand on the door knob. She half-turns back to Sara. “...see you in a minute?”
“See you in a minute.”, Sara confirms. Her cheeks are starting to her from trying not to grin like a demented person.
A few minutes later, Laila crawls back into bed with her, smelling like lavender, dressed in a honest-to-God night shirt, looking fucking adorable.
Sara wraps her arms around her.
