Pairing of species: Illi Mcmillin x f! reader
Diagnonsense: Big mistakes caused by too much alcohol and adrenaline gave you a free ticket to hell. The sweet freak you met some days ago could be your last meal on death row...
Before you put the lab coat: Heathers inspired, still not 100% faithful to the og script. Transfem Illi, mdlg, wlw, p in v, no protection, riding, groping, really fluffy sex, they fall in love?. Mentions of bullying, drug use, alcohol, teen pregnacy, and catholic topics with guilt too. Not dead dove, you may eat. A/n at the bottom. This is semi-proofread.
Senior year had led you to places you wouldn't have dared to enter without the rush of Jell-O shots and weed, diary under your armpit, and socks falling down your calves. You had been the odd one for what felt like your whole life, and now this newfound confidence in yourself and the tight blazer that hugged your ribs to the point of creating the illusion of what could be an ideal, sexy body from a Playboy magazine made you dizzy in a rush of drugged popularity. Even if you still felt that you didn't belong there, you were now a hot topic in everyone's mouth for reasons you didn't expect.
"You've clearly got a soul... You just need to work harder keeping it clean."
Were one of the first words she had spoken to you, words that rolled off her tongue past those dry, reddish lips, falling into saturated, overstimulated ears. That afternoon, she had defended you with such voracity; she fought for you like no other dumbass had done in seventeen years of frenzy. This no-name girl had punched them just to shield you? And she still looked flawless after it? You didn't know she could do that. You heard her name a few times alongside nasty chuckles and eyes rolling. The new kid, senior, boy or girl? Always laced with perversion to whatever happened in her brain and in-between her legs, and how she was a freak, bookworm, bless whoever dared to talk to her and breathe the air that was heavily tinted with her body odor. Her life was a mystery, only one brother and a father figure that "did not have an effect" over the older Mcmillin. All of that could easily make everyone run away from her and just throw her into the pile of "To bully..." in any of the popular kids' brains, but for you, damn, you would fight back for her too.
Getting to know her was almost a blessing, call it "Case 01: Illi Mcmillin". It was destroying your already cloudy reputation, and she was indeed weird, but, hello? She was a machine for generating scenarios and had such a way with talking that made your brain feel mushy. Sharing conversation with her felt like a mental orgasm, each time you got more into her and drunk on whatever was wrong with her (even if you had spoke to her maybe 3 times) Its so pretty how her hands move around while she talks like she had been a storyteller for kids, she was expressive as an actress and behind what seemed like a shy and cold structure to shield her from the world there was a soft and curious girl full of whimsy. She was cool to you, more than cool, you'd risk your own reputation for a little bit of her attention, for a skip of her heart when she saw you, for you to be the muse of whatever she scribbled down in her sketchbook in a corner of the room at lunch.
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Party night. Music blasted, and your stomach felt like a scratchy rollercoaster, neurons like little flying chairs, an amusement park you led yourself into. Fresh air seemed to freeze your mind and drown whatever shit of a situation you had just put yourself in. Crossing the door to the outside of a house with too much booze and teenagers feeling themselves up felt like straight-up vomiting. Sure, you had vomited before, and that's exactly why you were running away like a scared mouse. Vomiting on top of your "friend" was a free ticket ride to hell. Monday could be your last day alive if you had the guts to even go on monday- or that's what your fucked up brain could think of while being intoxicated in too much hard liquor and cheap beer- Too young to die, you had so much to live for, all the dreams that were crushed by shiny new red shoes and angry acid, life seemed to give you the middle finger after reaching a peak, feeling sore after an orgasm, convulsing.
And what would you do? Run away, as far as you possibly can? Wait for your death sentence? Have a last meal before getting slaughtered in front of the whole world? That would be an option if you had someone to go back to. There was actually one, not yours, but definitely you were sure you had an opportunity. Your tipsy brain displayed a collage of her. What a beautiful perspective, and what a dangerous, delicious plan.
Your feet guided you on their own down the neighborhood. Going barefoot was a thing you were considering, as you could actually sense calluses forming on your big toe, the displeasure of wearing those damned shoes that no clicking saved your ass from facing the music. Shoulders slouched and trees you clung onto, a runway to perdition. How well could she hide? was quickly answered when you saw a figure over a porch where the Honda Civic parked next to the growing grass seemed oddly familiar, or maybe not familiar, just the feeling of "I had seen this before somewhere."
The closer you got, the firmer your steps, the dizzier your head. It was her, of course, it was her. Crouched on the porch stairs, a book lies on top of her thighs; dorky, dark pyjama pants did not surprise you. From her fingers, aside from her neglected and bitten nails, a cigarette hung lazily, the smoke slowly exhaled from between those lips, curling above like a halo; she looked like a saint, and you were oh so ready to beg for her to spear you salvation. Her eyes quickly found yours as you made your way close to her, moving like a caged tiger and heels clacking against cement. A faint smile had grown in her face as you stood in front of her, faking sobriety, a breathless laugh she gave you, astonished.
"Huh- Wow... How-... How did you find my address, miss?... Did not expect t'see ya here... especially at these hours." She had confessed in a wheezy stuttering of words, a look of excitement on her expression, softly bathed in the dim, warm lighting of the light bulb above her. A hand brushed her black locks aside, clearing her view.
"I-Im sorry... I didn't know where else to go, you see... I made a huuuge mistake because I cannot tolerate alcohol as well as I would like to... I needed to see you, Illi..." Crouching next to her, your cold hand found her jaw. Even if her eyes never left you, you still wanted her to look at you closer, more intimately. Still not too close, didn't want her to feel the scent of alcohol in your breath. "If I were on deathbed and, imagine, only a kiss could save my ass from dying... would you kiss this poor girl and save her? Would you?" You whispered, not because you didn't want that to be heard, you didn't think about that, you needed your words to hit whatever soft spot Illi had, and if she rejected you, maybe she would have a little bit of consideration. The look on her face, confusion and shyness crashing, and eventually hugging, her eyes still nervously avoided your gaze, doing the trick she once heard, the one of looking at someone for three seconds, looking away for four.
"Ermm... whatarethisquestions... I guess I would... I mean- yeah, if you asked me to do so- oh fuck you're in a coma- ermm... if I had to-..." You shut up whatever she still had to say, not important, not necessary. Her words were always so shaky and wobbly, indecisive and cautious. Your hand grabbed her wrist, the other grabbed the cigarette from between her fingers, your lips finding where to curl and inhaling the rough nicotine, stomping on whatever she had left to smoke, and exhaled the grey mist. She grabbed her book clumsily as you stood up, obviously demanding her to her feet, pout on her lips as it was his last cigarette of the week, sadly, money didn't grow from trees.
Before your fingers grabbed the knob, her free hand gripped your wrist, the grip softening when she felt she had grabbed you too harshly. "Wait-... M-my dad's out, but Mikey's upstairs, I guess y'know about him... please enter quietly... My room-... go down, basement..." She mumbled, she even looked already blissed out, disoriented by how in 5 minutes her night did a 360 spin. She let go of your hand and let you open to door. Stepping inside, the scent of troubled family and buzzing of electrical appliances in a deafening silence felt like a post-concert ringing in your ears, only softened by the quiet and far beeps of whatever video game Mikey Mcmillin was playing in his room upstairs. The hand that grabbed her wrist quickly lost its function when she led the way downstairs, tippy toes sliding down the wood, cacophony that could alert sensitive and trained ears - not the case of Mikey, you could guess-.
The descent to the basement made your whole body feel cold, even if you were hot-minded. The tension felt acid and Illi's chuckles of just honest nervousness made your heart so silly. She lit the old flickering lightbulb, and it immediately buzzed. "Might explode... ignore it-... I-Id die happy here... with you, burning n' shit... hope you don't mind it-"
"Of course not-... I would actually- I mean, I feel like I am sorta having a heart attack... I did not snort any coke so... you miiight be the reason!" Words blurred together as you reached the last step, behind her. She turned around, sleeve of an old, rotting band tee, smashing what?it was so worn out the graphics were barely readable,, sliding down her pale right shoulder, a small freckle over it, and the decoration of the strap of a burgundy lacey bralette. Eyes staring, no talking, but a string that pulled you towards her like a magnet. Your hands insecurely curled around her arm, just below where her sleeve ended. You stepped closer, and so did she. The silence was quickly broken by your slippering of words.
"Would you give me the pleasure of having this last dance with you, mademoiselle?"
She giggled, whatever spirit that had taken over the basement stole her breath as she mumbled under her breath, "Yes-... Yes, please-."
Your lips crashed against hers first, gripping her arm, and your other hand found her waist, nails grazing and trying to feel her body heat under the irrelevant thin cotton. She was quick to answer, but did not do too much, her mouth opening for you to take the lead in whatever a kiss was about. She was clumsy, and you were tipsy; her hands were braced against her sides, such good behavior she was putting in. “Go on, Illi… Think you can do better f’me..? You breathed against her lips, temples touching as she sucked the air into her lungs, faintly. “Y-yeah…I can-” She purred, such a husky and silky voice she had, drove you crazy. Her hands sneaked to your blouse, gripping it to get you closer as he lips tried to work magic on yours, an inexperienced magician, but kind of a quick and eager learner. Her tongue was eager to get to use, yours had just gone to surface, smoothly french kissing. Illi's fingers quickly held onto your waist and started walking backwards, pinning you against the cool basement walls as you bit her lip with such audacity that evoked a not-so-quiet whimper from her.
“Like that, honey? A little bit of pain? You into that?” You whispered against her cheek, pressing pecks as your hands found their way lower, on top of her ass. Your hands squished and groped softly as she pressed herself against you like a puppy searching for some attention. You could feel her panties through the velvety fabric. She stared at you with glossy eyes, mouth open, letting out the cutest mewls you've ever heard. She nodded and closed her eyes, a frown on her forehead. “You really wanna do this?... With me?” She asked with a soft pout as you carried her to her own bed, grabbing her wrist once more.
The scent of her room was undeniably unpleasant, but it was so Illi that it just added more appreciation for her, such a nasty cutie. “That's why I came to you, Illi” Quick peck to her cheek before you threw yourself onto her mattress, sitting with your knees pressed against each other and staring up at Illi, their fingers fidgety as she eyed you on her bed, what a freakin dream of her.
“Could you unbutton my blouse, honey?” She quickly obeyed, kneeling in front of you and undoing each button of your blouse with care. The blue lace of your bra made its appearing each time she went lower, you noticed how her face got closer to your chest, trying to inhale the scent of sweat and whatever cheap but vanilla scented body mist you had splashed over. “You smell so good, mama… y’look s’soft-... ohmygod” She mumbled in the breathiest voice you’ve heard this night. Nails scratching her greasy raven locks as she worked. “Mama? Atta girl, sounds good I like it, keep it” You purred, thumb squeezing her cherub-like cheeks, she closed her eyes, blissed out.
The distance that you created by removing your hand from her skin and sliding the sleeves off your blouse left Illi pouting like a dog, the sweetest, and still well behaved, puppy you’ve seen. Her converse squeaked against the wooded floor as she twitched a little. You stood up slightly and slid your panties off, realizing your Mary Janes-like shoes were still on, striking pain in your feets. You kicked one off, trying not to hit Illi, but she quickly moved her thick fingers to take the other, sliding it out and placing it with care below her bed, like she would place them on a shrine. “Your turn. I'll do it” Before standing up, you brushed her hair, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the burning of her cheeks, the pretty coral-pink that adorned her angelic features. You knelt with her on the floor, your panties on the floor just above your shoes, discarded like they were a useless but saintly piece of silk. “You know… you might think I'm too drunk t’tell the truth. But I'm being serious. Alcohol gave me the guts to do so. I really wanna get t’know ya’... You’re a one of a kind, you look like a porcelain doll, y’know? You're always a little bit weird but I like that I wouldn't fall in love with someone boring… Didn't knew I was into girls before I met you, crazy y’know?” You murmured, your own voice getting a little shaky in arousal “Can i?” Left your lips ever so quiet as your nails traced swirls on her thigh, asking without words, just touches and stares.
“Y-yes…” Illi whispered, softly grabbing your hips and lifting you onto her lap, you knew she was kind of strong, she sat you on top of her thighs, hoping your attention wouldn't focus on the tent that had formed in her pajamas. Illi looked up at your eyes like you hung from the moon, like you were the Virgin Mary, like you were as delicate as a rosary, as pure as a lamb, she knew she was the chosen one to be saved. Her hands were firm on the curve of your hips, your hands sneaked in her nack to massage her scalp, inching closer to her. Licking stripes up her neck, her fingers gripping your sides like she was hanging from a threat that could rip.
Your kisses down her neck and shoulder made her breath so unsteady and deep, your name rolling out of her tongue deliciously. “Pretty girl…” You called her as you tried to subtly grind against her pants, you could feel your walls trying to hug something, to embrace, nothing was found and that made you sigh. Your tongue was a mere distraction for her to not notice the frustrated thrust forward on top of her thigh, but the hand on your hips and the sticky sound that went straight into their steaming ears, gave you away. “Mama-... I want to-... B-but I don't own any preservatives- "
"It's fine, I'm on da’ pill, wouldn't mind you getting me pregnant though, you’d be such a good mom, I know you would…The baby would win the genetic lottery t’be honest…huh.” She was the cutest girl, really quiet huffs came from her lips, sweet as a laughter, too blissed out to actually let out something else than stuttered whispers and cries, an aphrodisiac melody that drew you to kiss her again, softly this time, it was compensated with a slow grind of each other’s arousals. “I-I cant… Mama, mhm, can we? plea-please?” She whined, cloud nine was too low, her eyes were glossy and tears threatened to spill, trying to act the big girl and keep her cool. “What, honey? Big girls use their words.” No malice in your tone, as sweet as her own voice.
Who would have guessed something that was supposed to be a sin, was this sweet?
“Rid-... Ride?... Ride me? Mama… hurts…” Illi confessed, stuttering through the bold words and lustful thoughts she had, she could feel humiliated. But you didn't snap back at her and called her a freak, instead, praising her braveness. Her hands left your hips and she tried to lower her pajamas, the pink, flushed and shiny tip of her cock poked through her panties, that unexpectedly, matched her bralette. Well it almost did, a few drops of precome had stained her panties like little polka dots. She looked up, looking embarrassed, a kicked puppy. Hands cupped her cheeks, sensing the shyness. You kissed her again, flooding her senses as the last glitters of a shiny strawberry-scented lipgloss infected her lips. It was not as messy as before, much more tender and soft. You parted first and whispered against her sort of swollen lips. “Sure I'll do.”
The first stretch that Illi’s cock gave you was a heaven-sent sensation. She wasn't big as you’ve heard your friends murmure, talking about taking huge members, not a pleasant conversation for your virgin-self, now, ex virgin. The moans she let out scratched a loudness that her brother could maybe hear if he paid attention, pornographic sounds as your gummy walls gripped her cock so deliciously. “You feel so-sooogood mama…” She cried, drool daring to fall from her lips as you lazily rocked back and forth, her hands squeezed the flesh of your hips from under your skirt. She smelled so musky and sweaty, but sweet and tinted by a faint scent of cheap fantasy scented soap. Each movement made your clit rub against her pubes, the bundle of nerves were tickled by the curls and made you throw your head back, supported by her mattress. Thighs tensed and tried to thrust into you, little grinds of her hips. One hand rested over your feet, gaining more control over your movements, the other was lazily draping over her shoulder, keeping her close. She huffed so tired and out of breath like running a marathon and a drop of sweat rolled down their temples, tongue kickly catching it and savoring it.
“S’salty… right there, Illi…” Left your lips, trying to find that spot inside you once more, but your legs were betraying you, they felt so sore. You set a pace so slow and hard, one that made both crazy.
One that made both of your brains dumb.
The outlines of the flesh that Illi gripped were pale white, her chipped nails dug into your hips, grinding you back and forth. She moaned nonsense into the curve of your neck, pleas that turned her into the nastiest sinner, betraying the lord for the girl you had captivated her, the girl who payed her the attention not even her family gave her. Before becoming Illi Mcmillin, she was a son of the lord, a well raised American, guns and deers.
The rosy cheeks, all glowy in ecstasy. Your jaw slack. The soft noises of your wetness being dragged and breathless grunts.
You were in heaven. This wasn't sinning if you were already dead.
“Mama…I-it's okay if I?-...If I come?” So polite of her to ask, the sensations overwhelmed her, she could feel you squeezing her so heavenly, how your walls contracted against her, how your tits bounced against your bra, daring to escape them. Seemed hurtful, one of her hands - acting like they had their own brain- grabbed your bra, feeling the lace, the cushion that made them sit up so perfectly, the perfect bow that hid between them. She tried pushing one of the cups down, freeing one of your boobs, you looked so out of your mind and so amazed, the cold air of the basement made the rose blush bud stiff. Her fingers traced it softly, unlike her stuttered thrust inside your dripping cunt, each time the fluids mixed like a potion.
The friction between her pubic curls and your clit drove you to the highest pinnacle. The obscenities that were moaned in that basement would cling onto the walls forever. Last grinds in pure denial and disgusting stickiness led you to orgasm, fluids collided with her shirt, creating a wet patch. Incoherent mumbles of “im s-sorry” left your mouth as you lifted up her shirt, her cock still dragging out your high as she thrusted so clumsily.
Both curious hands worked magic on each other's chests. Nails grazed Illi’s nipples and small boobs, cupping them so lovingly like the statement of femininity belonged to them. The tightness of your cunt milked Illi to finish, feeling herself twitch inside of you as your insides were stretched and cloudy white. Soft as a marshmallow.
“Ohhhmy…Mama…” She pronounced, proceeded by an impressive amount of “thank you” pressed against the valley of your tits, hips stopping their rocking. She basked in that feeling, not daring to come back to earth, for her soul to come back to between his ribs.
Because it had been stolen by the temptations and she did not want it back.
“You did so good, Illi. Im sososo sorry for doing it here, on the floor. I know it's not comfy…Lets get on the bed, princess” You whispered against her ear, sliding her off of you. The moment that a feeling of loneliness is left in your milky insides. Illi’s fingers caressed your folds with curiosity, pushing her fluids inside with an expression that felt in between curiosity and something darker; sadness.
“Illi, what happens?” You murmured as her fingers left you and she tucked her cock inside of her panties and looked up at you with the biggest puppy eyes ever, raven locks clinging onto her temples. “Can we… cuddle? If that's not too much to ask for, maybe this was a silly hook up for you, i-i don't know. I-... I'm kind of blue, not because of this, it's just me…”
You stood up, grabbed your panties and slid them up with determination, but Illi stood up and analyzed your actions, stopping you prematurely. “N-no here-... I'll hand you wet-wipes and… you can borrow one of my panties… those must be dirty and mine can be a little bit more… fresh.” She said, turning around and walking to pick up some grey, boyshorts type of panties, the ones she used to wear frequently, you could guess it by the mere feeling of the thin cotton and small fuzz on the fabric. She walked like a small duck, sorely mumbling “ow” every step she took around her bedroom. Seems that every object she was searching for had disappeared at the wrong moment. You sat on her bed, legs were giving up too. You hooked the fabric around one of your fingers and slid it down your legs, taking your skirt off and your bra.
She managed to balance some wet wipes, a shirt, pajama pants, panties and an opened bag of chips in her arms, walking towards you, feets did not lift themselves off the floor.
Staring at your bare figure was a slap in the face, the necessities she had collected were propped down the bed as she took in the sight. It made her worked up again, but tiredness was taking over her head. Deep inhales to control herself as she took the wet wipes from her side, trying not to stare at your boobs like a pervert. “Back up… I'll do the dirty job. You deserve it, mama. Made me forgot about what a shitty life I have.” She said quietly, giggles falling from in between her lips. You leaned back onto her bed, opening your legs as she tucked a strand of humid, greasy hair behind her ear.
Her touches were kind and careful. Love, not lust, not now -even if she was fighting herself-. She wiped you clean, pressing pecks around your knees and thighs, tickling your stomach and then sweet kisses in her bed. She dressed you up like the dolls she didn't have when growing up - She was, and still is, more onto action figures. The chips were not necessary when sleep hit both. This was just the first time. A first try for intimacy. A first kiss, prayers for Aphrodite because if she was searching for a deity, it was surely a woman. It made Illi feel a bit less of a freak for once. Your fingers played with the lacey strap of the bralette as you drifted to sleep, embraced by Illi’s arms.
You no longer felt dizzy. You felt safe
You felt like maybe you could fall in love.
Lets enjoy this till' her father comes home and finds out about this...
A/N: As always, tysm for reading and waiting. This took me sooo long because of finals' week and I catched a cold Anyways, hope you liked it. This is my first wuhluhwuh work!! Happy pride everyone!! wishing yall a beautiful month to celebrate but also to fight for every member of the community who are no longer with us, to fight for our rights. And yeah, I luv Illi so much Im gonna marry this silly girl RIGHT NEWW!! XoXo for every reader of this and for my sweet anonimous patients( ´͈ ᵕ `͈ )◞
