jaejay^^

"tell me what?" sabrina asked doe eyed as if she wasn't fucking the shit out of you. as if your tits weren't bouncing and pressing into the mattress from each thrust and her perfectly manicured nails weren't digging into your hips as you whimpered.

"tell her," billie's voice was menacing as she started shaking her leg watching the way you struggled to speak. to form words.

"i-" you croaked before moaning unable to articulate your thoughts.

"i- i said your strap-" you moaned again and buried your face in the sheets trying to control yourself. you felt so tight it was almost unbearable.

"i bet your strap was pink," you groaned as sabrina chuckled and thrusted so roughly you almost lost your balance.

"you were right," she whispered coming down to your ear. her strap buried deep in your pussy. her lip glossed lips running along your jaw. hair tickling your bare back. your legs wobbled from being on all fours and enduring the wrath of your girlfriend's step sister's pretty pink strap.

"don't make me say it," you squealed sitting on your girlfriend's lap burying your face into the nook of her neck trying to hide your embarrassment. she held your body securely. holding your legs so you wouldn't fall off her lap as you sat on the loveseat in her apartment.

"come on," billie teased patting your thigh. you felt yourself growing warm. you're not exactly sure how this all came up but the whole thing was making you feel flushed and out of breath. you couldn't form words even though your head was racing with thoughts.

"i mean-" your voice trailed off as your eyes darted in the direction of the hallway.

"she's not exactly quiet," you whispered leaning into billie who was smiling, gaining an odd satisfaction from listening you speculate about her step sister. they weren't exactly close, but they lived together and you were totally right. she wasn't exactly quiet, but neither were the two of you.

you'd been curious about all the noise she made when she stumbled home late at night. it was hard not to overhear when her door was right across from billie's. you'd almost memorized the sounds by heart and you were strangely curious about this illusive step sister of hers.

from what you'd gathered they were polar opposites. they hardly coexisted. only tip toeing around each other. the only time you saw them interact was through text and even then, it was all cut and dry.

"is she gay?" you whispered afraid that she'd come out of her room any second while you were speculating about her sex life. billie laughed. full on laughed. eyes closed. brows furrowed. leaning forward making you squeal as you clung to her shoulders.

"is she?" you asked again with curiosity. you really didn't know anything about this girl. you just knew what she looked like and that girl did not ooze gay unlike your girlfriend. she wasn't even your type so you don't know why she had you feeling this giddy or why you were so invested in knowing these intimate parts of her life.

"she is," billie nodded biting her lip marveling at your expression. your eyes widened and you covered your mouth trying not to giggle too loudly. you felt like a gossiping school girl.

"i bet her strap is pink," you gasped looking at billie who was so amused by this whole thing. she was amused but there was also a feeling brewing inside her. one that had her thoughts racing, unbeknownst to you, as she tightened her grip on your thigh.

that pretty much explained how you ended up in this compromising position. her step sister fucking the shit out of you. showing you exactly how she made all those noises you'd wondered about. your girlfriend sitting on her desk chair watching the whole thing.

she watched you carefully. noticing the way your brows raised in pure pleasure. how your lips parted and stuck to the sheets as your mouth grew dry from the countless minutes of moaning and whimpering under her step sister's touch. the way your back arched as she ran her hand up your spine.

fuck. you really were a sight.

she was growing impatient. her hand tapping on her thigh while her leg shook. biting her lip until it was throbbing.

"i'm so-" you hummed shutting your eyes.

"so-" you moaned again. noises from deep inside your body rumbling out as the blonde fucked you senseless. all your assumptions were being proven wrong. she wasn't gentle. she wasn't fragile. she was assertive. she came close to making you scream screams that only your girlfriend ever managed to do.

"i'm gonna-" you cried out all these half finished sentences thinking of your girlfriend sitting jealous on the chair. you made eye contact through your blurry tear streaked vision. your arm ran along the cool bedsheets reaching out for her. billie snarled pushing her body off the chair as it wheeled back hitting the desk.

you winced at the sound. watching her approach you. her strap hung so pretty on her body. red like burning embers. ready to finish the job. to destroy you and tear you apart piece by piece. to show blondie how you really liked it.

"come here," she growled taking your arm lifting your body up. you cried out in blinding pleasure when she lifted you causing the strap to hit your cervix with a wave of ecstasy. you half sat on sabrina's lap, cock still buried in your pussy as billie cupped your jaw. her thumb dug into your skin as she kissed you roughly.

it was a hungry sloppy kiss as you clung to her arms. bringing your bodies closer as her step sister simply watched you devour each other. she was so intrigued. you were complete putty under billie's touch. her fingers dug into your cheeks as your starved mouths opened and your tongues pressed together.

her hands ran down your back lifting you off sabrina's strap. you hummed into her mouth and wrapped your arms tightly around her warm skin wanting to feel every inch of her body pressed against yours. she was gentle yet firm as she laid you on the bed. your chest rising with anticipation.

sabrina leaned back on the mattress. the palms of her hands supporting her weight as she tilted her head.

"let me show you how she likes to be fucked," billie snarled never taking her eyes off yours. it drove you absolutely mad that she was talking about you, not at you, while staring into your eyes with the hungriest expression.

your body laid across the bed. billie wedged between your thighs holding the fake cock in her hand aligning herself with your entrance. sabrina traced the silhouette of your body as you arched your back sinking onto her cock as she bottomed out.

billie sat on her knees holding up the lower half of your body as she started thrusting. you raised your arms above your head trying to fist the sheets. at the rate at which she was pulling you down on her cock, it was impossible to concentrate on anything other than her dick slamming into your pussy. she moved fast and purposefully. her fingers dug into your hips each time skin slapped.

"billie," you moaned raising your chest again reaching out for her body. billie growled letting go of your hip to lace her fingers with yours as she continued thrusting at an ungodly speed. you were melting so quickly under her touch and you knew this was no where near the level of feral she could get.

she wanted to proof that nobody could make you feel the way she did. nobody could kiss you the way she could or touch you the way she touched you. it was her touch that set you on fire. all those other girls had been beautiful, but no one did it like she did.

no one had ever quite had you in a chokehold like she did. her hand was literally wrapped around your throat applying only the smallest amount of pressure. that alone sent a ripple of pleasurable vibrations down your body as she fucked you. her eyes never left yours. she wanted you to see who was making you feel this good. who always made you feel this good.

you choked out her name. your vision blurring by the intoxicating feeling. you were impossibly tight. you wrapped so tight around her cock that if it were real, billie would've already surrendered to your grip.

watching your fucked out state, she leaned down pressing her body on yours. she securely wrapped her arms around you. palm pressed on the top of your head. fingers spread and clinging to you as she slammed harder. so hard you could hardly feel your legs anymore. your toes were curled so tight that when you flexed the sensation of pins and needles coursed through your body. stinging in all the right places.

she was hitting the deepest unimaginable angles until the only word coming out of your mouth was her name.

she was fucking you so good you'd forgotten all about the blonde sitting on the bed leaning closer to your scorching bodies. billie turned to look at her with wild, menacing eyes.

you knew who you belonged to. she'd just needed the blonde to help her satisfy the jealousy craving that’d been festering in the pit of her stomach. you’d been curious about her pink strap. now that you’d found out..

this wasn't going to happen again.

“lucy,” you call, raising your voice over the wind. “are you done yet?”

her laugh echoes from inside, light and carefree, followed by her reply: “almost” lucy calls. there’s a long pause, then the unmistakable sound of something heavy clattering to the ground.

you groan, letting your head fall back against the wall. this wasn’t unusual; lucy’s curiosity was perhaps simultaneously her best and worst trait. she had a knack for finding weird, useless junk and being way too excited about it. not that you minded. most days, her by wasteland standards unique disposition was the only thing keeping you sane. not today though, today, you’re cold, tired, and running low on patience.

finally, the door creaks open behind you.

“hey!” she calls. “look what i found!”

you push off the wall and turn to face her…and immediately feel your brain short-circuit.

lucy stands before you, beaming like she’s just stumbled upon the wasteland’s greatest treasure. she’s wearing…something: leather straps crisscross her chest, looping around her shoulders and down her torso in a series of buckles and loops. the centerpiece, an empty ring attachment, sits just below her chest. clearly not where it’s supposed to be, but it’s not like lucy knows that. nor does she seem aware of what she’s put on to begin with.

it’s a strap-on harness.

“oh my god,” you choke out, heat rushing to your face so fast you feel dizzy with it.

“what?” lucy looks down at herself, tugging lightly at one of the straps. “pretty cool, right? it was just lying there in the back of the store! i think it’s some kind of…uh…” she frowns, tilting her head as she spins to give you the full view. “tool belt? or maybe armor? either way, it’s really sturdy! feel this leather!” she grabs one of the straps near her shoulder and holds it out to you.

you don’t take it. matter of fact, you can’t. you’re too busy trying to remember how breathing works, because all you can think about is the way the harness fits snugly against her body, though entirely wrong, the leather gleaming faintly in the dim light, and how absolutely oblivious she is to what it actually is.

“lucy,” you manage, voice embarrassingly high-pitched. “that’s not- it’s not- oh my god, take it off!”

she blinks, startled by your reaction. “what? why? did i put it on wrong?”

“no, i mean…yes, but that’s not the point!” you gesture at her frantically, as if that’ll somehow distract from the mortifying situation. “it’s just- it’s not what you think it is, okay?” you try to explain, pointing at the leather “that is not a tool belt!”

lucy’s brow furrows in confusion as she adjusts the straps around her shoulders. “then what is it?”

you gape at her, torn between laughter and sheer disbelief. how do you even begin to explain this to her? clearly, she hasn’t seen those in her vault.

“it’s- it’s a-“ you cut yourself off with a groan, burying your face in your hands. there is no way you’re explaining this to her. absolutely not.

“what?” lucy presses, her curiosity clearly piqued. “what’s it for?”

“nothing!” you yelp, your voice cracking. “it’s for nothing! just take it off before-” you gesture vaguely at the very much empty street. “…before someone sees you!”

she glances around, perplexed, following your outstretched finger. “but no one’s here…?”

“that’s not the point!” you can feel your cheeks burning hotter by the second. “lucy, just- just trust me on this, okay? please?”

lucy hesitates for a moment, clearly not understanding but willing to humor you. “alright, alright,” she finally agrees, reaching for the buckles. “but i still think it’s a good find! i’m keeping this!”

you turn away as she starts to unstrap herself, both to give her privacy and to avoid spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment. despite all the dangers of the wastelands, you’re pretty sure traveling with lucy maclean is what’s actually going to kill you.

by the time lucy gets the harness off and stashes it in her pack (for some unfathomable reason), the sun is starting to dip low on the horizon, painting the scenery in streaks of amber and rust. after a full day of walking and scavenging, this crumbling storefront seems as good a place as any to settle down for the night.

“well,” you say, clearing your throat and trying to move past the initial awkwardness, “i guess this place’ll do. better than sleeping out in the open, at least!”

“it’s not bad,” lucy says cheerfully, looking around the store’s interior again.

the place, from which you can only assume that it is the ruins of what once was an adult store, is mostly empty, save for a few rusted shelves, a broken counter at the far end and a few boxes left in the old shelves.

there’s no sign of wildlife, which you consider a plus, and the building’s thick walls provide decent protection from the wind. “way better than that place we stayed last week. remember that weird smell? ugh…”

you hum in agreement, busying yourself with clearing a space on the floor. truthfully, it isn’t the worst spot you’ve camped in.

“you take first watch,” lucy says, dropping her pack with a soft thud. “i’ll take a quick nap and take over in a few hours?“

she’s adapting to how sleep works out here, at least, and you nod your head. “i could use some quiet time anyway,”

lucy nods, satisfied, and stretches out on the ground, rolling up her jacket like a makeshift pillow. “wake me if anything weird happens,” she says, closing her eyes.

you lean back against the wall, rifle propped an arm length away, trying to ignore the ache in your muscles and the stubborn heat still lingering in your cheeks.

now, the image of lucy in that harness races unbidden through your mind. it comes in flashes; pictures of her, with a strap now firmly attached to her body. lucy, on top of you, her face pressed to the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips. behind you, with her fingers curling up in your hair as she forces you back against her. above you, with your lips stretched around her-

you shake your head violently to banish it. you need to focus. there are bigger problems in the world than your ridiculous crush on someone who might not even swing your way at all.

but, of course, lucy doesn’t make it easy.

after barely twenty minutes of silence, she stirs and sits up, rubbing at her eyes.

“couldn't sleep?” you ask, raising a brow at her.

“nope,” she reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather harness again. “i keep thinking about this thing…” she mutters, running her fingertips over the ring.

you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “lucy, just drop it! it’s-”

she doesn’t. of course she doesn’t,

instead, she flips the harness over in her hands, fiddling with the straps as she examines it from every angle. instinctively, you reach for your rifle just to have a distraction.

“i mean, it’s pretty well-made,” she muses, tugging on one of the buckles. “whoever made it must’ve known what they were doing. and it’s got this…ring thing? maybe for carrying tools?”

“it’s not for tools!” you blurt, louder than intended. lucy looks up, startled. “well, then what is it for?”

you sigh, setting your rifle aside.

“can't you just let it go?”

you stare at her. lucy is watching you with those wide, curious eyes, completely oblivious to the mortifying reality of the situation. a part of you wants to lie. to make up some ridiculous story about it being part of a long-lost survival kit. another part of you knows you’re a terrible liar, and that she won’t drop it until she gets a real answer.

“well, i could,” lucy shrugs, “but you're being…weird about it, which makes me think it's actually kind of important! and now i really want to know!”

you glance at the open doorway, down rows of shelves, the faint breeze stirring the dust on the floor, as if hoping for some kind of divine intervention to save you. it doesn't come.

“fine,” you mutter, standing. “come on!”

lucy grins triumphantly, bouncing to her feet and following as you lead her to the far corner of the store.

she trails after you, harness in hand, until you crouch down by one of the dusty shelves, brushing aside cobwebs before pulling out one of the few remaining boxes you passed by earlier. it’s heavy and battered, but the faded label on the side is still legible and it is still sealed shut

“alright,” you say, placing it on the ground before you. “this,” you tell lucy as you pull a knife from your belt. “is the counterpart to what you're holding!”

without another word, you cut the plastic open and, after some more layers of carefully sealed packaging, pull out the bright neon-pink silicone dildo. you hold it up just long enough for her to get a good look before tossing it back into the box.

lucy blinks, eyes wide, and for a moment, she says nothing. then her mouth opens in a soft “oh,”

she kneels beside the box, staring at its contents with an unreadable expression. “wait, so...” she picks up the dildo again, and turns it over in her hands, her brow furrowing as she connects the dots. “this goes with the harness?”

“yes,” you say quickly, folding your arms across your chest. “and that's why i didn't want to talk about it. can we move on now?”

lucy, on the other hand, doesn't seem remotely embarrassed. if anything, she looks intrigued.

she puts it back in the box and stands, holding the harness up to her hips as if testing its fit.

“so it's, like... for, uh... intimacy stuff? sex?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

“yes, lucy,” you say, your voice tight as you force your gaze away. “it's for ‘intimacy stuff’,” then, after a beat of silence, you decide this might be your only chance to get your truth out as well: “specifically for people like...like me, i guess?”

she looks at you then, her eyes softening slightly. “like you?”

“yeah,” you shift uncomfortably under her gaze, heart pounding. “you know? people who don't really, uh, like guys…that way…?”

understanding dawns on her face, but instead of recoiling or making a joke, she simply nods. another pause, then: “so, like, women who…prefer other women?”

your throat feels dry. “yeah. something like that,”

lucy looks back at the harness, a thoughtful expression on her face. then, to your utter horror, she starts fiddling with the straps again, this time more deliberately.

“what are you doing?” you ask, your voice rising slightly.

“trying it on,” she replies matter-of-factly, stepping into the harness and pulling it up over her hips. she tightens the straps with surprising ease, the leather settling snugly against her body. “it's comfortable,” she says conversationally, running her fingers along the waistband.

all you can do is stare at her dumbfounded. “lucy,”

she glances at you, her face the picture of innocence. “what? you said it's for people like you, right? i just want to see what it's like!”

“people like me using it,” you practically hiss. “not people like you…wearing it around like it's a pair of pants!”

lucy laughs, but there's a glint in her eye now, something playful and teasing that wasn't there before. she shifts her hips slightly, the leather creaking, and you have to fight the urge to look away. or worse, stare.

“calm down” she says. “it’s not a big deal, right? just a harness!”

your heart pounds in your chest as lucy tilts her head, watching you with that same curious gaze. there's no judgment in her expression, nor is there discomfort. just a quiet, steady interest that leaves you completely off balance.

“look,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “you...you don't understand what you're doing right now!”

“don't i?” her tone is light but her eyes are searching yours. lucy steps even closer, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “you're blushing,”

“i'm not-” you take a step back, bumping into the wall behind you. “i'm not…blushing!”

“you totally are. is it the harness?” she pauses, her voice dropping just slightly. “or is it…me?”

your breath catches in your throat. for a moment, you can't think. you can't move. the tension in the air suddenly feels electric, heavy with the weight of everything you haven't said and everything she might not even realize she's doing.

“lucy…” you manage. “you should- uh- you should probably take it off now, yeah?”

she only grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. “why? am i making you nervous?”

yes. absolutely. but you don't tell her that. instead, you stand frozen as lucy leans just a little closer, the leather harness shifting as she moves. the air between you is stifling now, charged with something you can’t quite name. she hasn’t moved back. if anything, she’s standing closer, the faintest grin on her lips, her eyes locked on yours.

“lucy,” you say again, but her name catches in your throat, sounding more like a ragged plea than a warning.

“yeah?” she asks, her voice teasingly playful.

you glance down at the harness, that stupid harness, and then back at her, hoping she’ll take the hint. lucy doesn’t. instead, she shifts her weight again, the leather creaking softly. you swear she’s doing it on purpose now.

“why are you…” you trail off, biting your lip. “why are you doing this?”

her smile falters slightly. “i don’t know,” she admits. “i guess i just…like seeing you like this,”

your breath hitches. “like what?”

lucy tilts her head, her eyes searching yours. she pauses. then, her gaze flickers to your mouth and heat floods your face. you try to think of something -anything- to say, but the words won’t come.

“do you want this?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper now.

you nod your head slowly, your throat feeling too tight to speak.

her smile softens, and she takes another step forward, close enough now that you can feel the warmth of her body through the faint chill of the room. “good,”

and then she kisses you.

the shelves behind you clatter as your body is forced back against them by lucy’s own, trapping you against the metal.

it surprises you how fast her mouth is moving. how desperate and hungry. in all the times (more than you’d ever openly admit) you pictured yourself kissing her, she’d been the careful one. you should’ve known better than that. way better.

now, she is all over you, eager hands cupping your cheeks as she presses you against the cold surface. your whole body shivers as lucy licks into your mouth experimentally, humming when you gasp in response.

“for the record,” she mumbles against your mouth, barely breaking away from you enough to get those words out. “you want to have sex with me?”

you almost laugh at the absurdity of the question, would lucy not force one of her thighs between yours, keeping you on the tip of your toes with a strangled gasp. it doesn’t occur to you to question where she knows all this from. instead, you just nod, panting as she pushes her knee further up.

pleased with all those reactions she’s getting from you, lucy hums. “and you want me to use…that?” she nods towards the now unsealed box at your feet.

“uh huh,” is all you can manage. it seems enough for lucy, who flashes an excited smile before walking over to pick it up from the floor. for the first time, you dare to breathe.

she fumbles with the box momentarily, struggling to free the toy from its plastic packaging in her excitement. before you can offer your help, she has figured it out and carelessly tosses the container aside, leaving only the dildo in her hand.

“hm,” lucy hums, taking it in from all angles under the dim light.

“this goes through the…” you start breathlessly, nodding toward the ring that sits right above her still fully clothed pubic bone.

it’s not often that you find yourself longing for a life a little more like lucy’s. this is one of those rare moments though. the things you’d do to have her in an actual bed, in a place that belongs to just the two of you. somewhere where you can actually take your time to undress her, see her fully, and not just rushed glimpses in the barely lit space around you.

“okey dokey,” she fumbles with the toy, experimentally tracing the buckles and straps before pushing the dildo through its designated hole.

then, it’s just you, her, and the shuddered breath you exhale into the small space left between you when lucy steps closer again.

you briefly wonder if it would overwhelm lucy if you’d go down on your knees before her right then and there. if you’d force her down your throat and show her just how much of her you’re willing to take. but then you turn to look back at her and decide that this is not the time.

lucy is watching you attentively, her eyes darting between yours and the strap attached to her body. there seems a newfound sense of pride in the way she carries herself as you feel her press against your inner thigh. it draws a gasp from you, an expression on your face that lucy instantly mirrors: mouth agape, eyes slightly widened.

it is your hushed, shaky “lucy, please” that sets her into motion.

her fingers, once resting on your hips, jump into action before you know it; roaming all over your body. into your hair, over smudged, dirty clothes, underneath them…her nails briefly scrape the expanse of your stomach, the fabric of your shirt riding up your torso, and lucy seems satisfied with the way you exhale into her open mouth. then, she drops them lower.

it doesn’t take her long to unbuckle your belt and pull it free from your pants. the setting doesn’t allow any slower, more sensual undressing. instead, you push your pants down your legs until they’re polling around your ankles and you can easily step out of them, leaving you exposed from the waist down except for your underwear -which is doing a terrible job in covering the arousal there.

you’ve been wet from the moment you started fantasizing about her, and your little make out session has only made matters worse. lucy, who’s pushing her fingers past the waistline of your underwear, notices too when she’s met with your wetness once they slide through you.

“fuck-“ you mutter, your head falling back.

lucy studies you attentively once her fingers find your clit, rubbing it in clockwise circles underneath the fabric until your thighs are trembling and instinctively closing around her wrist.

“sit,” she orders, jerking her chin towards the shelf pressed against the back of your thighs.

stunned into silence, you hop onto the cool metal, your legs spread enough for lucy to stand between them. her palms stroke along your thighs as she bites her lip, now able to see the wet patch your arousal has left in the fabric of your underwear.

“can you take it?” she whispers, immediately earning herself an eager nod from you.

lucy pulls you forward until you’re sitting on the edge, then forces your legs apart further with a sudden motion. only once she’s reached out and pushed your underwear aside, does it seem to occur to her that she’s never been on this side of things before.

nervously, she glances up at you. “i’ve never-“ lucy begins, gesturing downward.

“that’s okay!” you interject instantly. at this point, you don’t care what she does, as long as she does it inside of you.

“okay,” she echoes, before focusing on the matter at hand.

absentmindedly, though it sends another wave of arousal down to your center, lucy uses what’s left of your wetness on her fingers to coat her length in it. you watch breathlessly as she pumps her fist along the silicone shaft until it's glistening with the makeshift lube.

immediately, you wrap your legs around lucy, closing your ankles behind her and urging her closer. she complies gladly.

her eyes flicker up to your face when she lines herself up and moves forward. your fingers reach around lucy’s back, desperately grasping for something to hold onto as her cock sinks into you inch by inch. her nose nuzzles against the side of your neck as she fills you up slowly, her breath warm against your skin, until she’s pushed it in as far as it’ll go and your bodies are nestled flush together.

“good?” lucy whispers, slowly pulling back just enough to look up at you.

“mhm” you hum, struggling to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head.

her hands fall to your waist again, squeezing you gently as her eyes remain fixed on where she has pushed into your body, where the toy is pressed against your walls just right.

“can i move?” lucy husks, looking like she’s barely containing herself from doing so.

for a moment you wish that her impatience was actually justified. not that it isn’t already, you are dying to see her in a similar position, but you wish she could feel you too: all around her, taking it greedily, sucking her in deeper.

once again, you nod.

pressing your palm between her shoulder blades is about all the bracing you get to do before lucy starts to move. she pulls her hips back slowly as if she’s testing the waters, before slamming into you faster and deeper than expected.

“o-oh!” you gasp, your mouth falling open over lucy’s shoulder. the relief of finally feeling her against your g-spot is immediate and has you seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

you arch your back against her, involuntarily searching for more as lucy starts thrusting into you more confidently. you meet each of her thrusts, gently lifting your hips from the shelf to rock back onto her strap. like this, she’s fucking you properly in no time, falling into an easy rhythm.

the sound of your skin slapping together echoes through the otherwise abandoned store, accompanied only by your occasional ragged moans. you don’t bother to hold back anymore, not when you’ve spent half of your travels fantasizing about her like this.

it only vaguely registers that lucy’s mouth is pressing against the side of your neck, sucking on the soft skin there as she keeps fucking the strap into you. she’s reaching depths you could never quite find with only your fingers during your rare attempts to find some sort of relief, depths that have you trembling already.

“lucy please!” you cry, unsure what you’re even asking for as one hand holds onto the back of her neck whereas the other grips the edge of the shelf for dear life. “please,”

“does that feel good?” she asks, her voice genuine and amazed despite her relentless pounding.

“mhm, so good!” you nod. your legs are shaking around lucy, trembling more with each thrust that makes you gush around the strap.

the longer lucy moves like this, the more confident she gets in her own movements. despite the occasional grunts of exhaustion, she does not let up. it doesn’t take her long to find the perfect angle either, your cunt throbbing once you feel her right where you need it the most.

too eager for your own release to feel embarrassed, you drop your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace that matches the one lucy has set.

the space around you smells of sex and her hands are carefully holding your legs apart, keeping you open for her. the shelves creak under the force of her pace, slamming against the wall so loudly you will have to check if the noise has attracted any unwanted attention once she’s done with you.

for now, all you can focus on is the pleasure in your system, which only intensifies when lucy starts talking: “god” she groans, eyes narrowed down on your body to watch the way you take the full length of her strap over and over again.

she pulls out almost all the way once, the motion agonizingly slow so she can see the way you part for her as the silicone slides from your body. the toy is glistening with your wetness in the barely lit room.

“fuck-” she grunts, before snapping forward and sinking back into. there’s sweat collecting at her temple from the efforts of her constant rolls of her hips. “are you close? tell me!”

your weak whine seems to sound agreeable enough for lucy to double her efforts. not once does she falter, her hips thrusting forward effortlessly and desperate cries of her name are all you can manage. they're your only prayer as she gets you closer and closer to the edge.

“that’s it,” she praises absentmindedly, her eyes glued to what she can see past the fabric of your underwear and the frantic movement of your wrist as you rub yourself to the rhythm of her thrusts. “that’s it!”

lucy seems almost as eager to make you cum as you are yourself, panting: “are you gonna cum?” as though she can hardly believe that she’s the one to get you there.

“oh my god, are you gonna cum on my- on my cock?” the distant realization dawns upon you that she doesn’t even know the proper words, but the way she’s put it -albeit clumsy and unsure- works. it is what you ultimately need to be pushed over that edge.

a breathless “oh my god!” is the only response lucy gets before your orgasm rips through you. with a prolonged moan, you slam your head back, only vaguely aware of the dull pain as your body convulses around her strap.

your hips are still rutting back and forth uselessly, grinding against your hand as she stills inside of you. when the pleasure finally subsides, your body goes slack and you fall against lucy with her strap still buried inside you.

her arms wrap around you soothingly, pressing you as close to her chest as the current position allows. you stay like this for a while, just enough for you to catch your breath and ground yourself. the stillness of the night settles back into the store as the two of you adjust in the dim light. she pulls back gently and you pull your jacket tight, brushing stray bits of dust from the sleeves, while lucy fumbles with her gear.

the wind that blows through the creaks in the wall seems louder now, as the silence between you stretches on. finally, lucy dares to speak. “well,” she begins. “this has officially been my favorite pit stop so far!”

you can’t help but laugh, your cheeks heating up all over again as you carefully reach down to push your underwear back into place.

“and these?” she jerks her thumb down to the strap that’s still fastened to her body. “these are definitely coming with us!”

you freeze mid-motion, “lucy, you can’t just carry that around like it’s-“

“like it’s what? a perfectly good survival tool?” she interrupts. “come on, think about it! it’s sturdy, lightweight, multipurpose and-”

“multipurpose?” you cut in, raising a brow.

she shrugs, unbothered. “sure. you never know when you might need something to hold up supplies!”

your lips part to protest, but no words come out. instead, you watch as she unbuckles the harness. this whole situation is ridiculous. it’s so lucy. you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the sight.

she glances over at you, her head tilted when she catches you staring. “are you alright?”

you nod quickly, forcing yourself to look away before your face betrays you again. “yeah,” you swallow audibly. “yeah, i’m good!”

but you’re not. not really. because she kissed you. she kissed you, and then she fucked you, too. and now, instead of brushing it off like another one of her impulsive experiments, she’s acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like it’s you that’s natural to her.

“alright,” she says, her voice pulling you from your thoughts. “let’s set up camp for the night. i’ll try to get some actual sleep this time!”

you nod again, following her toward the back of the store where the shadows are deepest. as you lay out your bedroll, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s humming under her breath as she secures her pack.

this wasn’t just a one-time thing, you realize as she packs up both the harness and its counterpart. it wasn’t just a kiss or a moment or something you won’t speak about in the morning, otherwise she would not be keeping this.

it was lucy, and it was you.

and whatever comes next on your travels, you know there’s no going back from this.

You look at your front door suspiciously as you realize the deadbolt is already unlocked, but you had to rush out the door so quickly this morning you figure that you probably just forgot one of the locks. Besides, you’ve had the kind of day where you don’t even care to question it. If you walk in and half your things are missing, you would just call it downsizing as long as you got to go directly to bed.

The sigh of relief you let out as you close the door seems to take the weight off your shoulders almost instantly. The satisfying thud of the door slipping shut is only matched by the elation you feel as you finally slip your shoes off. You dump everything besides your phone on the table, heading straight to your room with the intention of passing the hell out. Only, there seems to be someone already there.

Rhiannon lays back on your bed, wearing nothing but one of your button-up work shirts and her black panties. The top three buttons are undone, revealing just enough to give you a good look at the sharp ridges of her collarbones. It's far too large for her, pooling around her waist where her thighs are propped up, and yet it fits her like it should’ve been hers instead. 

The waistband is slightly askew on her hips, pulled down just enough that your eyes linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out longer than you should. You only manage to tear your eyes away far enough to land on her wrist, poking out of her waistband as her hand moves rhythmically beneath the fabric. It’s unhurried, almost deceptively casual, as every flex of Rhiannon’s fingers against the fabric makes your heart pound in your chest.

You notice Rhiannon, but she doesn’t notice you. Certainly not with each heavy breath that leaves her lips, interspersed by breathy little whines that make you want to cross the distance between you even as the question of how she got into your apartment strikes you. She’s utterly focused on herself, and you can’t blame her for it.

It’s not like you can look away either, not when her head is tipped back on your pillow, mouth agape with her hair spread perfectly around her. Her lips glisten with saliva, her bottom lip trapped beneath her teeth in a fruitless attempt to keep herself quiet. It doesn’t work, not when you can hear her this clearly. You can’t bring yourself to interrupt her, not with the way her stomach clenches as she rocks up into her hand.

Her feet press into the mattress for leverage, toes curling as she lets out a shaky murmur of your name. Soft, breathless, and yearning.

You jump back, terrified at being found here watching her. You knock something off your dresser, wincing as it clatters to the floor, all but announcing your arrival. It’s not like you were the one doing anything wrong; it was your bed for Christ’s sake, but the feeling remains. Only when Rhiannon lets out a shocked gasp as her hand stills do you realize what just happened.

Rhiannon didn’t see you standing there. Your name. She said your name. Not in surprise, not in horror. She was thinking about you.

Her head turns slowly on the pillow, her eyes glassy as she meets your own. There's a moment of shock as she sees you, something anxious passing over her face before both are gone. You have a sudden desperate need to look away, struggling to look back at her as the faint, wet sounds of her fingers moving make their way to your ears. Rhiannon doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t make a single move to cover herself.

If anything, her legs spread wider with the knowledge you're watching, her free hand sliding up to cup her chest through the fabric of your shirt. Her panties stretch taut around her hand, leaving you with absolutely no doubt what’s happening. You can see each quirk of her fingers, each time she grinds up against her palm. It draws a whine from her, her back arching up off the bed as she plays herself masterfully.

You look away, starting to back out of the room. This was just too much. Even when your eyes aren’t on her, the subtle creak of the mattress beneath her hips is enough to make you want.

“Look at me,” she says quietly. 

You don’t turn your head at first–can’t. You know that if you look at her now, you’re going to want to touch her, to push her hand away and replace it with your own. But this is crazy. It’s crazy! She broke into your apartment and is now touching herself in your clothes. In your bed. You’ve got to say something–

“Look. At. Me.” Firmer this time, each word sending shivers down your spine. You break, watching Rhiannon in all her glory as she stares right back at you. She grins, slow and dangerous, as she revels in your attention. Rhiannon only grows bolder, like she’s putting on a show just for you.

“Come here,” she commands, and you take a step forward before you even realize what you're doing. 

There's just something in her voice. She murmurs your name again, soft and desperate, and you step even closer. Just close enough for a hand to come out of Rhiannon's shirt and curl her fingers around the waistband of your pants. She tugs you closer, none too gently, focused more on getting you here than how she does. You can see it now, that wide-eyed look on her face with something close to devotion as your knees hit the mattress. 

You climb up onto the mattress next to her at her insistence, scooting forward till your knees brush her arm. The fingers inside her move slowly, and you can feel the way the muscles in her arm flex along with it. Rhiannon gasps, slowly rocking up into her hand. It's different now with your weight on the bed next to her, how the mattress dips beneath your knees and draws her closer to you. 

She moans as your hand tentatively reaches out to press against her leg, tracing your fingers along the inside of her thigh before grabbing firmly and squeezing. Her muscles jump beneath your touch, knees pressing closed for a moment, deciding whether to trap your hand before she pries them open again. Her thighs tremble from the effort of keeping them apart. 

Rhiannon lets go of your waistband, reaching up to grab your chin and tear your eyes away from where her fingers pump away between her legs. 

“Don't look at that. Look at me.” A demand. Could you look away even if you wanted to? Not with the way her eyes stare up at you. 

You don't take your eyes away from hers, even as you feel her hips start to roll faster as the tension grows to a fever pitch. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips parted. The muscles in her thighs flex rapidly beneath your palm, even more telling than the increasingly whiny noises leaving her. 

“Look at me.” Breathless now, desperate. But no less demanding. You dig your thumb into the muscle of her thigh. She lets go of your chin, spreading her legs wider as she shoves a hand down to rub her clit. 

“I am,” you murmur, your voice steady as her voice starts to crack and her muscles start to tremble.

“Look at me.” This time you hear it for what it is: a plea. 

Rhiannon's eyes are piercing, like she's looking right into the heart of you. What does she see when she looks at you? You wonder. Everything about her is so intense, so real. It's the most honest you've ever seen her. 

Her eyes start to slip shut as she gets close. 

“Look at me,” you say. “Look at me when you come.” 

Rhiannon moans, eyes snapping back open to look back at you even as they try to flutter shut with each jerky movement of her hands still working away. The words are almost too much for her to handle. Her moans reach a fever pitch, her back arching off the bed as she presses into her own fingers with another cry of your name. It's the most praise you've ever received from such little work on your side. 

Finally she stills, head going limp against the pillow as she breathes heavily. You sneak a glance down, watching the way her panties snap back against her hips as she drags her hands out of them. 

Her fingers glisten in the light of your bedroom, and for a moment you want to draw them up to your lips. You probably would, if not for the way Rhiannon pops them into her own. Immediately a feeling of disappointment wells up in your chest, not soothed even by how hot she looks doing it.

She smiles weakly at you as she rests her hands on her stomach, scooting further over toward the wall as she looks at you wearily. Like she’s half expecting you to explode on her. There's a part of you, however small, that wants to. Instead you cautiously lay back in the space she’s none too subtly cleared out for you. 

It was definitely the right answer, a pleased sigh leaving her lips as her arm wraps around your stomach. She’s got one leg thrown over yours before you even realized she moved, bare thighs brushing against yours and making you wish you thought to take your own off before you climbed into bed. Her head rests on your chest like it’s always been there, breath warm and steady where her mouth presses against your shirt. You stay quiet for as long as you can manage, long minutes that seem to stretch on forever, but you can’t quite stop yourself from asking.

“How did you get in my house?”

Rhiannon stiffens.

“There’s a key on your front porch.” She doesn’t even miss a beat, giving an answer so practiced that you want to believe her.

No, there wasn’t. 

There also wasn’t a window broken, so she couldn’t have…

Your eyes drift toward her clothes, neatly folded and sitting on top of your dresser. Her keychain is there, just as bare as you remember it being. Only, there’s one more key there than you remember seeing the last time you caught sight of it. And she had been oddly secretive about it lately, shoving her hands deeper in her pockets whenever she saw you were looking at her.

You almost groan as you remember losing your keys last month. The way you turned the office over for hours looking for them only to find them sitting in your jacket pocket at the end of the day. Now that you think about it, Rhiannon had been conspicuously missing all day. Not that anyone but you seemed to notice. She’d even blushed when you brought it up to her as you were leaving, something close to awe on her face as you commented on her absence. The reaction was so strange you hadn’t noticed she hadn’t even told you where she had been all day.

Did she make a copy?

She seems to read the disbelief on your face, her smile cracking beneath the strain. Her grip on you tightens, fingers digging in enough that you fear they’ll bruise before letting go like nothing happened. 

Before you can ask something she finds equally stupid again, she sits up, her leg settling over yours as she sits up in your lap. She's warm and soft where she's pressed up against your thigh through the fabric of your pants. . 

Her hands rest on her thighs, drawing your attention down to bare skin covered loosely by the shirt that sits far too low on her thighs for your tastes. Teasing, more than revealing. You can just barely see the dark outline of her panties peeking through the thin fabric, waiting like a secret to be uncovered. 

Rhiannon grins smugly as she leans forward, grabbing your hands and leading them to her hips as she experimentally rolls them down against your thigh. Her eyes slip shut for a moment as your hands settle, fingers splayed out across her skin underneath her shirt as you help her rock back and forth. It's slower than you want to move her, but Rhiannon seems to want it that way. 

She reaches for the bottom of her shirt, playing with the hem between her fingers. You can't take your eyes away from it, and she knows. God, does she know. Slowly, achingly slowly, she slips the bottom button through the hole. It doesn't reveal anything you couldn't already see, but the anticipation almost has your hands shaking where they hold her hips. You have to remind yourself to breathe. 

You don't have to remind yourself to keep Rhiannon's hips moving. She's more than happy to remind you, clicking her tongue disapprovingly each and every time you get too distracted to remember to guide her rhythm. All it takes is a move to rebutton her shirt to have you swallowing hard and gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as you drag her forward. 

You curl your thumbs into the delicate waistband of her panties without thought, feeling the lace and the smooth skin of her hips brush against your skin. They feel impossibly soft and thin, a barrier so fragile and yet so completely capable of keeping you from what you want. The fabric stretches out from the tension as you pull it taut, offering just a glimpse of what lay beneath.

She gasps softly, her face flashing with something mischievous as she pulls another button through. It had to be some kind of torture designed specifically for you with the way she's started from the bottom up. 

Of course, it had to be from the bottom. The way her fingers move from button to button keeps the fabric snug against her skin. No reveal, no reward. You're left only to imagine what will be revealed when she finally reaches the top. 

The shirt already hangs loosely on her shoulders, mocking you with the way it billows around her. There's just a hint of the curves you know lie beneath. It would certainly only take another button or two at the top to have it falling off her shoulders, slowly cascading down her arms and pooling around her waist. rock

You want to reach up and hurry it along, to unbutton each and every button and drag your fingertips down her shoulders as you pull the shirt off for her. But you don't. You aren't sure what Rhiannon would do, but you're not sure you want to find out. Not with the smug way she looks down at you, eyes wild with something you couldn't name if pressed. This is her game. 

At least for tonight. 

But your patience is rewarded at long last as she reaches the last button. She pauses for just a moment too long, just enough for you to know that she’s playing with you, before pulling the last button free. After all the buildup, it was almost anticlimactic–almost. Your heart stutters in your chest as her shirt falls open, revealing bare skin that you’ve been imagining since you first found her in your bed tonight. She hasn’t shrugged it off yet, not when that would be too simple. It’s all there now–the curve of her collarbone, the soft expanse of her stomach, the swell of her breasts. So close, but so out of reach.

She leans backward, making sure she has your attention as she finally lets it fall with the smallest of shrugs. The shirt hangs loosely at her sides now, pooled around her waist as it catches on the crook of her elbows as she grabs at your forearms. The perfect leverage to start grinding down harder, each roll of her hips bringing another damp glide of her panties against your thigh. 

The soft friction of it was driving you insane. You want them off now.

There's the start of something that looks like bruising around her ribs that makes you momentarily curious about what she could've gotten up to to get it. Rhiannon's always been the quiet type, and up until you got home, you never could have imagined her doing anything but going to work and back home with an occasional trip to the bar after work. You would need to reevaluate your understanding of just who Rhiannon Lewis was, but that could come later.  

Rhiannon looks like she could be in a painting, the shirt framing her body in a way that's entirely too artful. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, lying against her skin so perfectly it almost looks staged. 

If you saw her in a museum you wouldn’t think twice.

You want to reach out and touch her hair, to run your fingers through it as you pull her gently toward you with a hand on the back of her head. Right now you want to kiss her more than you wanted almost anything. Her grip on your arms was too tight to pull away from unless she let go, her nails digging crescent-shaped marks into your skin. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, at a lack for any better words. Who needed thoughts anyway? Certainly not you. 

Rhiannon pulls one of your hands up, brushing your fingers slowly up her side as she brings it to her chest. Her other hand keeps yours firmly held in place on her hip, letting you feel each and every movement. You're not sure where to look, not with her sitting on your thigh looking like that. 

She squeezes her hand tighter around yours, as if reminding you of your handful of her breast. Right. Rhiannon sighs when your thumb brushes blindly against her nipple, guiding your fingers to roll her nipple. 

With a nod of approval, she lets go, resting her hand on your stomach as she leans forward. The change in angle causes a choked noise to leave her lips, not helped at all by the way you're touching her. You've grown confident in a way that seems to unnerve her, showing a glimpse of the Rhiannon you're far more accustomed to. That, more than anything else, is what relaxes you: knowing that not everything you knew about her had been flipped on its head. 

You look down at her hand as her fingers flex, nails digging into your skin through your shirt. It's a thoughtless reaction, but something immediately catches your full attention: a smear of what looks oddly like blood beneath her nails.

“How did you…?” You ask, eyes focusing on her nails. Rhiannon glances down, a flash of surprise crossing her face. She starts to move her hand away before thinking better of it. 

“Is that what you want to ask me right now?” Rhiannon asks. 

Is it your blood? You wonder, resisting the urge to check the state of your arms. You wouldn't be surprised to find your blood running down your skin in rivulets and staining the sheets beneath you. A small price to pay when you think about it. 

Rhiannon rolls her eyes, bracing a hand on the bed beside your head to rest her weight on it as she leans closer. Rhiannon cups the side of your face, her thumb brushing a stray strand of hair off of your face before she's leaning in to kiss you. 

Her lips brush against yours slowly, betraying an inexperience you hadn't quite grasped before. 

Your hands reach up to touch her hair, retreating back to cup the back of her neck when Rhiannon visibly flinches. You can't help your reaction at finally getting a taste of her after wanting it so badly. Rhiannon pulls away for a breath, a quiet laugh breathed against your lips at your eagerness as you try to chase her back. 

“What did you say?” She asks, running her thumb over your lips. 

“Huh?” You ask elegantly. 

“Never mind.” She sounds smug. “Couldn't have been that important.” 

You nod. Whatever she says. 

She seems to relish your noise of disagreement as she pulls back, watching the way your lips turn into a frown. 

“Rhiannon,” you murmur, watching the way her breasts move with every sway of her hips. 

“What?” She asks breathlessly. 

You tug at her panties, pulling down at the waistband as you add, “Off.” 

Her answering grin is wicked.

Right at this moment you would give her anything she wanted, so aren't you lucky that all she seems to want is you? Your hands. Your touch. Your attention. Your eyes on her as she stands up to pull her panties down her legs, letting them fall to the ground on top of your now discarded shirt. 

Rhiannon doesn't settle back down on your thigh like you were expecting, or even on your hips, which would have been your second guess. No, she settles back high enough on your chest that she can only have one destination in mind. You almost cry tears of joy. 

And you wanted to come home and pass out tonight. What a change. 

She raises an eyebrow in question, her head tilted to the side just so. You nod thoughtlessly, grabbing at her thighs and helping her shuffle up to bring her within reach of your mouth. You wrap your arms around her thighs, squeezing tightly as she grabs at your headboard with one hand. 

Rhiannon groans at the first tentative touch of your tongue, rolling her hips before you've even got a chance to really get into it. You don't complain, not that she would pull herself far enough from your mouth for you to be able to. You've barely begun, and she's already chasing the ending. 

You want her so bad. So eager that it's made you sloppy, desperate to make her fall apart now that you've finally gotten a taste of her. Rhiannon certainly doesn't mind, not with the way she stares down at you like you've done something noteworthy with each greedy lap of your tongue. You've made it your new goal to taste as much of her as possible. 

The creaking of the bed beneath you, the sound of Rhiannon's nails scraping against the headboard as she held on for dear life, the little sighs and groans she let out, the sound of her flesh against your tongue–it all blended together into a perfect cacophony of sounds. You could die here and still be happy, pinned beneath her as you worked your jaw between her legs forever.

And then she speaks. 

“Good,” she murmurs. “You look good like this.” 

Rhiannon reaches forward to lace her fingers in your hair, barely getting a handful before her hand suddenly goes lax. Something strangely like fear crosses her face before it's gone just as quickly, her fingers almost trembling as she gently brushes her fingers through your hair instead. 

“Does that–” She starts anxiously, “Is–is that okay?”

You squeeze her thigh absently, drawing her closer to your mouth to get even deeper. She laughs breathlessly, letting herself be led if only for a moment. 

You've always been a passionate person, fully dedicating yourself to the task at hand. It often leads to getting caught up in your work long after everyone else went home or showed up. It's part of what endeared you to Rhiannon: the simple comfort of knowing she'd still be sitting right there at the desk in an outfit similar to the day before when you got back from whatever lead you were chasing.

Long story short, you've never minded getting lost in your work. Especially when it involves Rhiannon's clit against your tongue while she takes anything and everything she wants from you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Like that, just like that. Don't fucking move.”

She doesn't have to worry about that. There's not a single place you'd rather be right now than exactly where you are. You're not even sure you remember how to breathe at this point, not with how enthusiastically she's taken to riding your face. 

Her thighs clench the sides of your head like she’s desperate to bring you closer, like the distance between you is too great for her to accept even now. You couldn’t get closer than this. Not when she surrounds you completely. All you can feel is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can smell is her. You’re lost in her, relentlessly giving her everything you have. 

She takes even more.

Her head tilts back, her thighs quivering as she starts moving erratically. Each confident roll of her hips becomes frantic, jerky motions that do less to satiate and more to frustrate her. You slide your hands up her thighs to grab her hips, picking back up where she left off. The effort is rewarded with a whimpering moan and some incoherent words that sound sort of like your name.

She comes with a sharp cry, almost trembling as her breath comes out in rough huffs for air. You’re just holding her up by this point, her muscles twitching and quivering beneath your hands as you savor every moment of it. You don’t stop, not yet, not till she half-heartedly pushes at your forehead and slumps forward to lean against the headboard.

Rhiannon doesn’t pull away entirely, half because of how weak her legs seem to feel and half because she doesn’t want to. She strokes your hair lazily, seeming to enjoy the feel of it beneath her fingers. You can hear her catching her breath again above you, even as you have to prop her hips up to breathe yourself, but you don’t entirely mind.

“Mmm. Good job,” she murmurs hoarsely.

Oh?

You preemptively tighten your grip on her thighs as you take her clit into your mouth and suck, keeping her in reach when she instinctively jerks away. She cries out, hand fisting in your hair as her thighs shake. 

“Fuck, wait–”

A loud whine, and then another as you roll your tongue over her. It looks like it takes everything in Rhiannon to even stay upright, but she does nothing but urge you on even when words seem to be beyond her. 

…

She’s gone by the time you wake up.

You’re as surprised as you are disappointed by the realization, flopping your head back on the bed as you turn your alarm off. You bury your face in your hands for a moment, quietly mourning her absence, before rolling out of bed. 

There’s a note on your bedside, right beneath where your phone sat charging.

See you at work. XOXO.

P.S. Hope you like coffee :)

You glance up, looking for anything else out of place. Your eyes narrow as you catch sight of the shirt Rhiannon stole from your closet, folded up neatly on top of your dresser. Right there in plain sight: a bright lipstick mark displayed prominently on the collar. 

"are you coming with?" she asked. voice high pitched and sweet. you glanced at her, her hand steady as she coated her lashes with mascara. long beautiful lashes, it was so unfair. you turned away quickly. back to her. unaware of her furrowed brows and confused disposition.

"it'll be fun," she sung as you heard the chair creak and her heels clank on the floor. she walked gracefully. the sound of her heels creating a soft melody as she floated towards you. your head turned only a few centimeters gauging how close she was, but you'd smelt her perfume before you could even see the distance and you had to turn away. the hatred consuming your body. boiling your blood.

"everyone is going, why shouldn't you?" her voice was nearly quiet as she placed her hands on your shoulders so delicately. nails so perfectly manicured. you shimmied out of her grip turning to look at her with daggers in your eyes.

"why are you being so nice to me?" you asked with confusion. her brows raised and her lips frowned. still, nothing was out of place. every hair laid perfectly on her head framing her face beautifully. every lash was perfectly curled, lips perfectly rosy, dress hugging her figure marvelously. you hated that you'd never be like her. that no matter what you did, nothing would ever work out perfectly for you.

"i only want you to have a good time. everyone is going, why shouldn't you?" she asked with a defensiveness in her voice that sounded more like the glinda you knew. when she placed her hand on her chest and pulled back her neck as if you were attacking her, your eyes softened. her brows furrowed with confusion. her lips parted with intrigued. what twisted game were you playing? she vetted she'd been nothing but nice to you this entire time-

"i hate you," just as soon as the words had slipped out like word vomit, you cupped your mouth. your eyes widened as her shoulders slumped and her lips frowned. her big eyes eyes searched the room as she stumbled back trying to find something to hold her weight.

"hate?" her voice was shrill, full of disbelief.

"nobody hates me," she emphasized. her perfectly painted and rounded nails clung to her vanity as her eyes shifted. she was having an existential crisis as you stood frozen in front of her. you hadn't meant to say it. you're not sure why you said it. did she really not notice the way she treated you? did she not understand that you weren't friends? that you'd never been friends?

"i'm sorry," you whispered not sure what else to say. you were sorry. sorry that this is how things were unfolding. sorry that she was so offended when you had every right to feel this way. then she turned to look at you menacingly.

"sorry?" she scoffed darting towards you. her finger dug into your shoulder shoving you. she shoved you.

"you said you hate me," she cried out in disbelief. she stomped her foot and stood her ground. chest puffed up. brows furrowed. you could see the vein protruding in her neck. she was filled with anger and-

"why do you hate me?" and softness. there was a softness that took over her again and her shoulders slumped and she searched the ground as if the answer was on the floorboards and she played with her fingers like she was reevaluating every interaction and glance since the first day you met.

"you are pushy," you said without hesitation.

"you always need to get your way," you added not noticing the way you were inching closer to her.

"and you hate me," you stated now centimeters from her face. when she looked up at you, her doe eyes were boring holes into your soul. there was genuine confusion written on her face. the proximity of your body was making her nervous and you wouldn't deny that you didn't feel the same way. there was fire coursing through your veins. uncertain if it was from the loathing or from being able to hear her soft uneven breathing.

before you could continue going down your list, her hands were cupping your face. her lips ghosting over yours. her eyes challenging your gaze. her fingers curled around the back of your neck. arms wrapped around your shoulders testing the limits of her touch. tentative yet assertive as you stood still. you glanced at her lips. glossed and perfect. you glanced at her eyes. big and brown and beautiful and smooth like chocolate. you swallowed and cautiously touched her back.

upon feeling your touch, she closed the gap between your faces. lips molding so perfectly. foreign, but nice. what was this feeling? it rumbled in your belly. hunger. insatiable hunger. your fingers wrapped around the strings of her corset, absentmindedly pulling until she breathed on your mouth relieved of the pressure on her ribs.

she sighed, humming against your lips. you opened your mouth, tongue finding hers. fighting for dominance only playfully. this was a game you were both enjoying as hands roamed bodies. as she pulled on your robe and you tugged at her corset. you gasped when her hand ran under your shirt and she exhaled when her dress hit the floor and you pulled away from the kiss admiring her beauty.

she looked down shyly at her body before finding yours again. wrapping herself in your embrace. feet pitter pattering to her bed. her big frilly pink bed. your bodies sunk into the mattress. her legs on either side of your body. her hair falling down her face trickling down your collarbones as she kissed you again and again. hips swaying slowly. your hands on her thighs. your whimpers small as she teased and dragged her lips down your neck.

it wasn't hatred and it hadn't been lust. the line was very thin and you were balancing on it. it was an attraction you couldn't begin to understand. a feeling you deduced to the only thing you'd ever known..hatred.

“Thanks, baby. You’re the best,” you spoke, still smiling at her.

“I try my best,” she responded with a shrug before her arm slowly went down from your shoulder to your lower back as she started the film. You knew what she was up to, and you couldn’t help but smirk. She was going to finger you right there since Caleb was gone. She wouldn’t risk it with Caleb around after all. 

“You want to fuck me while watching the film, hm?” you teased her, looking at her. Ana shrugged innocently. 

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” she responded simply. You knew she did though. That was when she rubbed your thigh. You got closer to her before opening your legs up, glad you wore a pair of her gym shorts that were oversized on you. She loved it whenever you wore her clothes admittedly, it turned her on. She was smirking as she started to put her hand under the shorts, the film starting. You kept close to her, letting her hand trail under your (her) shorts. She was rubbing your thigh up and down, her hand slowly starting to trail upwards. 

After 5 minutes, she started to rub your crotch as you let out a few gasps of pleasure. You saw her smirk out the corner of her eye as she kept going, soon circling your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of your mouth as your legs opened wider for her, her hand slowly pushing your underwear to the side as she touched you with no clothing in the way finally. It had taken what had felt like forever as she was pushing her middle finger in slowly. You let out a few moans as you threw your head back slightly, Ana smirking as she thrusted it inside more. She was determined to make you a horny mess in her own clothes. She wanted you to ruin the shorts, you could tell. You rode against her finger slightly as you were letting out small groans of pleasure, her entering a second one in slowly but surely.

You were still grinding against her fingers as she watched the film, her watching you every now and then as she could tell you were getting close from you clenching around her fingers. “Cum for me, mi puta,” she commanded. On command, you immediately came all over her fingers as well as in her shorts. She loved it obviously from the smile. 

“Thank you, Mommy,” you thanked her immediately, knowing she controlled your orgasms. You loved her control over you.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap pretty girl?” she asked you. You blushed as you nodded, doing as told. She slowly took off her jeans as she revealed her strap-on and the fact she was commando under her jeans. You let out a squeak of surprise but you weren’t complaining as you slowly started to grind against it, Ana slowly tugging the shorts and underwear down. “Such a slut,” she teased, causing you to whine. The film was long forgotten by now as she was quick to lift you and start to put you onto her strap-on. She loved watching you become her slut as she started to thrust inside of you, kissing your neck. You kept your head there, Ana slowly starting to pin you against the couch. She wanted to jackhammer into you already but she knew she couldn’t in that position. It would be too awkward so she would fuck you against the couch. She soon had you pinned against her weight and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get up. She was too strong for you after all, she worked out daily after the vampire incident. 

She was soon starting to thrust harder and faster, reaching deeper inside of you. You knew then it was the 8 incher instead of the 6 inch one. “So big, Mommy,” you moaned out loud as you arched your back. “Such a good girl for Mommy, taking my strap,” Ana teased, moaning in your ear as she was thrusting inside you faster than she ever had. You were a moaning mess for her, clenching around the strap-on. “Can I please cum?” you asked, feeling her hit your G-spot harder than she ever had. 

“Cum with me baby girl,” she moaned. You nodded, her doing 3 more thrusts before she moaned in your ear, getting harder before she soon came. You came with her, throwing your head back before she held you close.

“I love you,” she murmured. 

“Sammyyyyyyy,” Joey whined out from beneath the blankets, a shiver running through her body as the cold winter weather spread a deep chill throughout the apartment.

“You know that’s not my real name, Joey,” Sammy smirked back at her girlfriend as she pulled off her shirt and replaced it with a warm, long-sleeved pajama shirt.

Joey smiles back and replies, “I know, but it’s cuter. Now come onnnn!!! I want cuddles, it’s so cold.” The taller girl pouts up at the blonde and briefly pulls her arm out from under the blanket and opens and closes her hand in a grabby motion.

Sammy chuckles, but complies and slips underneath the blankets with her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around the brunette and kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips. The attention makes Joey crinkle her nose and smile shyly. Sammy smiles warmly and pulls her close, cuddling the girl and embracing the warmth of her body.

The two women sigh in relief at the shared contact with each other, and they slowly fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Sammy, are you on lunch break?” Joey asked. 

“Yeah babe, I am. Why?” she asked. 

“I am going to help you make a sauce for your pasta so you don’t have it plain when I am at work,” Joey explained. Sammy widened her eyes before she smiled, the same smile for when she was being figured out by Joey.

“You are the best,” she spoke. Joey shrugged. 

“I want my lover to be healthy,” she explained and Sammy nodded as she was quick to go into the kitchen with Joey. Sammy was excited. Joey meanwhile got a can of chopped tomatoes, peppers, tomato paste, ketchup, onions and different herbs out. “Those are onions,” Sammy spoke confidently. “I learnt the difference between garlic and onions,” she added. Joey snickered. 

“I’m glad,” she spoke and kissed Sammy’s cheek. She was happy they could joke about that at least.

“First, chopping onions,” Joey instructed. She showed Sammy how to hold the knife and chop them before she let Sammy take a go at it. Sammy was happy as she was doing it all before she looked at Joey when she finished. She wanted the praise that she knew Joey would give her. 

“How did I do?” she asked just to make sure she got it. 

“You did well mi amor,” Joey responded with a smile. “You could quicken up but it takes time to learn,” she added. Sammy nodded as Joey grabbed a red pepper. She once again taught her how to cut it and Sammy did as told, no injuries happening. She was also praised once again and it made her excited. 

“Now that these ingredients are cut, we put in the onions first,” she spoke, letting Sammy scrape them in. Sammy nodded as she was listening, choosing the pasta she wanted as Joey was admiring Sammy a bit. She was wearing some of Joey’s sweatpants and one of her tank tops. It was a hot day after all. Joey meanwhile was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, her scars from her old drug use being shown, and a pair of shorts. She was more confident showing them around Sammy and Caleb now, Caleb was happy to be with his mom rather than his fuck up of a father. Soon the onions were done, and Sammy put the peppers in under her lover’s command. She was being good as Joey was hoping she would memorise this. She was sure she would though if she could remember code. 

After 30 minutes, the sauce was done and was simmering as Joey and Sammy were getting something to drink. Joey got some water while Sammy got some Dr Pepper and was sitting on the counter. “Thank you for this,” Sammy thanked, looking at Joey genuinely with a soft smile. 

“It’s no problem mi vida. I am happy to teach you anything and I know you have had a hard childhood so I am happy to show you new things you need to learn,” she spoke. Sammy was happy. She felt loved. Soon enough the sauce and pasta were done and she got 2 plates ready for them. She let Sammy choose how much she wanted first. Sammy meanwhile made it even and Joey chuckled. She was happy to see how compassionate her lover was. The 2 girls soon sat down. 

“You know… it’s weird how we still call each other our undercover names,” Sammy teased. Joey widened her eyes then laughed and was nodding. 

“Agreed. Why don’t we use it when one of us is in trouble? Like if you made a mess in our room,” Joey teased. Sammy nodded excitedly. 

“Yeah! So… Ana, want to go on a date soon?” Jessica asked. 

“Yeah, I would love that Jess,” Ana spoke with a smile, then both proceeded to laugh. They were just happy. That was when Jess took a bite of her food and she widened her eyes. 

“Holy shit, this tastes so good. Fuck your school nurse job, become a chef,” Jess praised. 

billie grabbed your hips breathing heavy. she pounded into you watching your breasts bounce so deliciously. your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. she bit her bottom lip so hard she thought she might bleed.

“i’m-“ you huffed out of breath chest rising from the mattress as she brought you down on her cock. skin slapping and sweaty.

“i’m gonna-“ you tried again voice raspy. “-cum.”

fuck, you were quite literally on fire. flames consuming your flesh. your chest felt tight from hardly breathing and your toes were curling only adding to the sensation of needing to release.

“fuck,” billie spit licking her lips furrowing her brows in concentration.

“gonna breed you so good,” she snarled and you couldn’t quite gather what she was saying too strung out and focused on your orgasm.

“gonna fill with you my cum,” she’s breathed on your neck coming down flushed on your body holding your thighs pounding into you long and hard. the words made your mouth water and your arms wrap tightly around her shoulders. you’d never heard her talk this way. lies. she’d joke about putting a baby in but it was all teasing and laughter.

right now, she wasn’t laughing. she was slamming into you. she was biting your shoulder. she was huffing and breathing heavy and when she instructed you to cum, you unraveled on her cock and squirmed and squealed in pleasure when you felt a warm rush pumping through your walls. it was wet and filled you tenfold. pulsing on your throbbing pussy.

billie found your face smiling deviously as you lips parted and your brows raised in bliss.

when she pulled out slowly, you winced. she didn’t give you a chance to ask questions. she just lifted your leg watching your fucked out pussy throbbing and dripping. at eye level her thumb ran between your folds slipping and sliding pushing it all back in your pussy as you winced and gripped her hair.