#satan1999

𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞 | 𝐑𝐮𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

rating: E for Explicit

warnings: WLW, Stripper!Reader, S3 setting, back of the car, car sex, strap on, Oral (receiving), fingering, mentions of drugs.

a/n: this was a request I made for a close friend

The neon sign outside flickered like it was on its last breath, buzzing low and uneven. It painted the sidewalk in washed-out pink, catching on scuffed sneakers as Rue lingered just outside the door, jaw tight, fingers twitching at her sides.

She exhaled sharply.

Then pushed her way in.

The bass slammed into her chest the second the door opened, deep and relentless, like it was trying to sync with her heartbeat. Heat wrapped around her instantly, thick with perfume, sweat, and something sharp hiding underneath it all. The lights were low, shifting in slow waves of red and purple, making everything feel unreal, like she had stepped into someone else’s dream.

Rue paused just inside, eyes adjusting, taking it all in.

Bodies moved everywhere. On stage, on laps, through the crowd, fluid, practiced, effortless. Glitter clung to skin, catching every flash of light. Laughter rang out from somewhere to her left, too loud, too forced, blending with the steady murmur of deals being made in hushed tones.

Her tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek.

“Yeah… this is…” she muttered, trailing off.

Not her world. Not even close.

But there was something about it, the chaos, the noise, the way nobody really looked at you unless you wanted them to, that made her stay.

Rue shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket and took another step forward, letting the door shut behind her with a heavy click.

Across the club, you were already on stage when Rue walked in.

The lights hit your skin in slow rotating colors, painting you in red, then violet, then something almost soft before it snapped back into neon heat. The pole was warm under your palm as you moved, body controlled, practiced, effortless in a way that came from years of knowing exactly how to be watched without giving anything away.

It was your last dance.

That thought sat quietly at the back of your mind, but it never touched your expression. Not yet.

From up there, you saw everything.

And then you saw her.

Rue had taken a seat with the crowd instead of lingering at the edge. Hoodie slightly too big, posture loose but guarded, eyes locked upward like she was trying to figure you out instead of just watching.

Something about the way she looked at you felt different. Not hungry like the rest. Not empty either. Just focused, like she had accidentally walked into something she did not know how to name yet.

You turned with the pole, slow, controlled, letting your body carry you through the rhythm. The room blurred at the edges, but her gaze stayed sharp in your direction.

A man leaned in too close below you. You felt his hand before you fully saw it, the slip of a dollar tucked into your thong, the rough edge dragging against skin in a way that made your jaw tighten for half a second before you smoothed your expression back into something untouchable.

You kept dancing.

But your eyes drifted back to Rue anyway.

The music swallowed everything as you left the stage.

The crowd barely registered the shift, still locked into the lights and rhythm, but your attention had already narrowed to one point in the room.

Rue, She was still sitting there like she did not fully belong to the space around her. Hood up, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes tracking you the closer you got. Not the crowd. Not the money. Just you.

You moved through the edge of the stage with practiced ease, the last of your set fading behind you as the lights shifted.

Rue’s expression tightened when you stopped in front of her.

Not fear exactly. More like surprise she had not prepared for.

You tilted your head slightly, studying her the same way she had been studying you.

“You look lost,” you said, voice low enough that it got swallowed mostly by the bass.

Rue let out a small breath through her nose, like she was trying to decide whether to answer or leave.

“I am not lost,” she muttered, but it did not sound convincing even to her.

You gave a quiet laugh, short and soft, more observation than mockery. You stepped closer, 

then instead of crowding her, you turned and slid into the empty seat beside her, close enough that she would feel your presence but not trapped by it.

From here, the lights did not hit you the same way as the stage. Everything felt louder and quieter at the same time.

Rue glanced at you out of the corner of her eye.

“You do not really look like you belong up there either,” she said after a beat.

That made you pause.

For the first time all night, your smile faded just a little, not disappearing, just softening at the edges.

“Maybe I do not,” you replied.

A beat of silence passed between you, heavy with noise from the room but strangely contained inside the two of you. The music cut off abruptly, leaving the air feeling heavier without the bass to carry it.

The lights shifted into something less forgiving, brighter in patches, exposing the reality of the room instead of softening it. The spell of the performance broke little by little as bodies started to reset, conversations flickering back to life.

You straightened, breathing steady, still carrying the afterimage of the stage in your posture.

Then you turned back to Rue.

She was still sitting there, looking up at you like she was trying to catch up to what had just happened. Not uncomfortable exactly, just unsure where she was supposed to place herself in it.

You stepped closer and held your hand out.

“Service is not free, baby,” you said, voice calm but firm. “Pay up or get out.”

For a second, Rue just stared at your hand like she was deciding whether to laugh or take offense. Her brows pulled together slightly.

“I did not ask for anything,” she said, but there was no real bite behind it. More confusion than defense.

Around you, the club kept moving like nothing had changed. Chairs scraping, glasses clinking, the distant call of another dancer being announced. But here, it felt like a pocket of stillness had formed.

You did not move your hand.

Rue exhaled through her nose, then reached into her hoodie pocket slowly. Not rushed, not 

scared. Just reluctant, like she was admitting something she did not want to name.

“Yeah, okay,” she muttered under her breath, half to herself.

She looked up at you again, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You always talk to people like this?”

“It’s my job. Now pay up.”

Rue hesitated for half a second, then reached into her hoodie pocket. She pulled out a crisp twenty, a little too neat for how out of place she looked here, and placed it into your hand.

You took it without breaking eye contact, glancing at the bill like you were confirming it was real, then folded it once between your fingers.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then you turned on your heel, already slipping back into the rhythm of the room, like the interaction had been just another part of your shift.

But Rue’s voice caught you before you got far.

“Wait,” she called after you.

You paused, looking over your shoulder slightly.

“What else do you do?” she asked.

There was something in her tone now. Less confusion. More curiosity she was trying to pretend she did not have.

The kind that stuck.

You tilted your head, letting the question sit in the noise for a second. The club kept moving around you, but the space between you and her felt weirdly still again.

Then you gave a small, knowing smile.

“Stay after,” you said softly, “and find out.”

And just like that, you walked away, disappearing back into the lights and the crowd before she could decide whether to follow. 

Time blurred in a way that only nights like this could make it blur.

The club had stopped feeling like a place and started feeling like a cycle. Lights, bodies, money, noise. Repeat. By the time your shift ended, your body felt like it was still moving even when you were standing still.

The last client had been exactly what you expected. Too close, too handsy, too confident in ways that meant nothing to you anymore. You smiled through it anyway. You always did. It paid the bills.

Now you were outside.

The air hit colder than you remembered it being when you went in.

You leaned against your car, one shoulder pressed into the metal, blunt already lit between your fingers. The smoke curled up slow, disappearing into the night like it never existed at all.

That was when you heard footsteps.

Not rushed. Not hesitant either.

Just there.

Rue came into view like she had been there the whole night waiting for the right moment to exist in it again. Same hoodie. Same slightly off, almost amused expression. That stupid smile, like she was proud of herself for still being around.

You exhaled smoke slowly, watching her approach.

“You actually waited,” you said, voice flat but not surprised.

Rue shrugged, hands in her pockets like she belonged nowhere and still somehow everywhere at once.

“You said stay after,” she replied. “So I stayed after.”

She stopped a few feet from you, eyes flicking briefly to the blunt in your hand, then back to your face.

The street behind her was quiet in a way the club never was. No bass. No crowd. Just distant traffic and the hum of streetlights.

Rue tilted her head slightly.

“So,” she said, that same half-smile still lingering, “this is the real version of you?”

You watched her for a second, smoke drifting from your lips in a slow exhale.

Rue Bennett stood there like she was trying to decide if she was brave or just bored enough to keep following you into things she did not fully understand yet.

You shifted slightly against the car, blunt still between your fingers.

“Well, I got some stuff left over,” you said, voice calm, almost casual. “You wanna see the real me? I’ll show you.”

Rue’s eyes narrowed a little, like she was clocking the risk in your words but not stepping back from it.

“What kind of stuff?” she asked.

There was no judgment in it. Just curiosity wrapped around caution.

The night felt quieter suddenly, like everything else had taken a step back to watch.

You glanced at her, then toward the car, then back again. Not rushing her. Not selling it. Just existing in the offer.

Rue rocked slightly on her heels, then let out a small breath through her nose.

“You always talk like everything is a test,” she muttered.

A beat passed.

Then she added, quieter, “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

And that was her answer more than anything else.

You pulled Rue into a Kiss as you led her back into the backseat of your car. Without hesitation, Rue slipped her hoodie off and tossed it onto the floor. Her hands running along your body reaching to untie your costume top. You dropped your neck to let the fabric slide off your chest. Rue’s teeth pulled on your bottom lip down as she brought herself down to your neck kissing and sucking at what she could. The body glitter you had doused yourself in had transferred onto Rue’s lips making it seem she was wearing glittery lipgloss.

Using her knee, Rue pushed your legs apart with ease. The sudden movement made you jittery inside at what was going to happen next. Your eyes sat low like a panther observing Rue pull the string of your thong down with her teeth and down your legs. The action putting you into submission as you wrapped your legs around Rue, guiding her down. Her tongue targeting your clit flicking it with the tip, letting it get wet. You tensed up from the wet feeling unprepared for what was going to happen next. Rue dug her nails into your thighs causing you to yelp from surprise. 

Her lips latched onto you sucking and swallowing while her fingers softly worked you. Your muscles tightened in your thighs trying to move but Rue held you down butterfly style. The lack of AC in the car caused sweat to bead against your forehead. 

You could feel yourself getting tight but the way her fingers felt inside of you just felt so right. Your tongue swiped the top of your lip collecting the sweat to prevent you from making a sound but it was too late. You were releasing a hidden moan under your breath. 

The sound of that moan made Rue’s ears perk, it alerted her that she was going something right. With the given permission, she continued but using her thumb to rub over your clit as she plugged her tongue inside. Your fingers wrapped the door handle trying to grip onto support as you started to grind against her tongue. 

“Fuck…Do you do this with all the girls?” You questioned breathlessly. 

Rue didn’t answer. She just moved her hands from your thighs to your hips moving them at the motion of her tongue. It felt like you were riding the wave of an ocean and you were getting seasick. 

“I’ll never tell.” Rue muffled with her mouth full of you. 

The pupils of your eyes rolled into the back of your head displaying your whites. Your skin prickled and your body hair stood up. You couldn’t help but grab a fistful of Rue’s hair, it helped you control where you wanted her to go. Knuckle deep inside, Rue removed her mouth from you and watched as you pulsated begging for more. The same smug look Rue gave you in the club stayed, letting her cockiness get to her head. 

Rue reached into her backpack and pulled out a familiar silicone friend. The purple object gleamed in the moonlight capturing its ridges and all. 

“You just came prepared, huh?” 

The impatient woman slid off her shorts revealing plaid boxers as she stepped into the straps, securing it around her waist insuring that it wouldn’t fall off. 

You used your elbows for support watching as the tip was lathered in saliva from Rue’s mouth. 

Inserted in gently, your eyes glued onto her face as your folds clenched around Rue. A fire in your abdomen began to brew, your face grew hot, and goosebumps pricked against your skin. 

Rue bent down to you and held your back up, preventing your skin from touching the fabric seats which made your skin itch previously. 

Her hips jerked forward pounding into you roughly once she got the hang of where she wanted you to be. 

“Feels good doesn't it? Hold that moan for me.” Rue ordered, placing a free hand onto your mouth to muffle your moans. 

Your glossed lips rubbing off onto Rue’s palm as they were hidden behind her skin. It felt too good to be quiet, you wanted her in this moment and this one only. 

The curve of the strap itching the right places molding itself inside of you. 

“Right there—“ you moaned, biting the skin of Rue’s palm. 

The strap hammering while the van rocked against the gravel underneath the tires. Your foot accidentally pushing onto the horn causing it to go off. You gasped hoping to not alert anyone nearby but it didn’t stop you in your tracks. 

The muscles in your thighs tightened and ached from the stretch of your legs being held open. You wanted a break but you couldn’t stop pushing against Rue with your body. A choked sob caught in your throat as you pushed Rue’s stomach back but it led to her placing your hand above your head. 

You screamed out for Rue wanting her to fuck you harder. 

“You’re almost there, just a few more.” Rue cooed into your ear. 

You slammed your eyes shut and let your body take over from there. Your pleasurable moans turned into cries as you were being pumped into. 

The tip of the strap touched at your spot activating your climax. You howled as Rue pulled out from you and began peppering kisses on your collarbone. It had been years since you had come. This one being the best one you had from a woman. 

“I guess the party favors are out of the question.” You recalled as you pulled the baggie from your bra. 

“No, No we can still take those.” Rue said. “This was just a little preparation for that.”

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐈𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

rating: M for Mature

warnings: WLW, mentions of drugs, strangers dynamic, romantic tension, vulgar language, mentions of sexual themes

Rue emerged from a cloud of smoke like an angel. Her eyes sat low, a joint dangling from her mouth, her face sparkling with glitter she’d stolen from an ex-girlfriend. She’d been dragged to this party after insisting on staying home, only agreeing once she heard weed would be supplied.

Across the room, you babysat a red solo cup with God knows what inside. You came with your friend, but she’d ditched you almost immediately for somebody else. With every sip, your drink only seemed to grow more bitter. Your feet eventually moved on their own toward the drink table, your eyes scanning the various bottles lined up for something stronger.

You reached for a bottle of Absolut, but before you could twist the cap open, another hand reached for it too.

Your eyes flickered upward, landing on Rue. The two of you had never exchanged more than a glance, but you knew of each other—same college, same campus, same passing familiarity.

You pulled your hand away from the bottle, expecting it to fall neatly into Rue’s grasp. Instead, it slipped straight through both of your fingers and crashed to the floor.

The sound of shattering glass cut through the room, earning groans from nearby partygoers—some more offended over their shoes and outfits than the actual mess. You dropped to your knees without thinking, gathering the broken pieces into your hands.

“Don’t do that, I got it.” Rue’s voice came soft as she crouched beside you, a dish rag in hand to sweep the shards away.

“It’s my fault,” you mumbled. “I’m such an idiot for letting it go.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Rue smiled, her words dragging lazily behind the smoke in her lungs. “We’re all a little gone tonight.”

You winced as a sharp piece of glass dug into your skin.

“Fuck,” you hissed, pulling your hand back on instinct.

Rue tossed the broken pieces aside and turned her full attention to you, her lazy expression tightening for the first time that night.

“Shit, that looks bad.” She grabbed your wrist before you could inspect it any further. “Let’s get you to a bathroom.”

The two of you pushed through the crowd, weaving between bodies and spilled drinks in search of somewhere quieter. Rue reached the bathroom first, knocking hard against the door. No answer. She twisted the knob. Locked.

Her fist slammed against the wood again, louder this time.

“Hey, get the fuck out of the bathroom!” Rue shouted through the door. “I really have to piss, and I’d hate to walk in on some limp dick guy and his virgin girlfriend.”

The door swung open, revealing exactly what Rue had described. The couple scrambled to piece their clothes back together, avoiding eye contact as they slipped past. Rue didn’t spare them a second glance—she grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you.

The faucet turned on immediately, cold water rushing over your palm.

You bit down on your lip, trying to hide the pain, but the glass had dug deeper than you thought. Rue opened the bathroom drawer and, by some miracle, found a pair of tweezers still wrapped in paper. She peeled them open and began searching through your wound for the shard lodged inside.

It was a first for both of you; being this close, this still and somehow it felt warm.

“Stop moving,” Rue whispered.

Her eyes narrowed in concentration, locked onto your hand. She had never been this focused on anything before, but something about seeing your pain made her chest tighten. Maybe the drugs were finally settling into her system or maybe it was something else.

“What brings you here?” you asked, your feet swinging lightly against the bathroom counter.

“I was forced here through bribery,” Rue answered, carefully lifting the tweezers. “And now I’m pulling glass out of a girl’s hand.”

Her lips twitched.

“Not exactly how I pictured my night going.”

A chuckle slipped past your lips at Rue’s answer. You understood the feeling all too well, but somehow this moment made the night feel less miserable.

“Gotcha,” Rue cheered softly, setting the tweezers down onto the counter.

You rubbed over your palm before pressing a wad of tissue against the cut, watching it slowly soak through to stop the bleeding.

“I know this question is cliché,” you started, glancing toward her. “But have you ever been in love?”

The question settled heavily in the room.

Rue lowered herself onto the toilet lid, her knees spreading slightly as she leaned back against the wall.

Love.

How could someone even begin to explain it?

She’d mistaken it for a lot of things before; lust disguised as loyalty, comfort disguised as permanence, loneliness disguised as devotion. She’d told people she loved them because it felt like the right thing to say, because saying it kept them around a little longer. But actual love? The kind that reached into your chest and rearranged everything? She wasn’t sure she’d ever held it long enough to recognize it.

Her eyes drifted back to you.

“I think I’ve loved the idea of people,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “The way they made me feel. The way they filled space.” She paused, thumb rubbing against the edge of the toilet seat. “But real love?”

Rue shrugged.

“I don’t know if I’ve been lucky enough for that.”

You nodded at Rue’s response and let it sit on your tongue for a moment, tasting the honesty of it.

“I don’t think I could ever find the love I yearn for,” you admitted. “I want passion, something so real it doesn’t even feel real.”

Rue listened without interrupting. Her eyes traced over your face as if she were trying to memorize it; the curve of your mouth, the tension in your jaw, the way your eyes avoided hers after saying something so vulnerable.

For once, she didn’t have a clever answer.

Maybe because she understood exactly what you meant.

Everyone wanted love, but not everyone wanted the same version of it. Some people wanted comfort. Some wanted safety. Some wanted a body beside theirs at night just to keep the loneliness out. But what you were describing—that kind of love—was dangerous. It was the kind that consumed you. The kind that kept you awake. The kind that could ruin you just as easily as it could save you.

Rue had spent years pretending she didn’t want that too.

“You’ll find it,” she said finally, her voice lower now. “Or maybe it finds you when you stop looking so hard.”

Her words lingered in the tiny bathroom.

Then her hand moved before her mind could stop it. Her fingers brushed a loose curl from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a softness that surprised even her.

Her hand stayed there a second too long.

And suddenly the room felt much smaller.

“One more question,” you promised.

You weren’t sure how Rue would react to it, but curiosity pushed the words out before you could stop them.

“Have you ever said I love you during it?”

A soft laugh escaped Rue’s lips, her head dipping for a moment before she looked back up at you.

“I haven’t.” Her answer came easy, honest. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Her hand rested on your lap now. Light, almost accidental, but neither of you acknowledged it.

Your eyes dropped to where her fingers sat against your thigh, and Rue noticed immediately. She didn’t move them. If anything, her touch grew heavier.

“I’m not the best person to be in a relationship with.” Rue’s voice softened, her eyes falling somewhere past your shoulder. “You’d wake up one day at a loss for words, begging for an explanation of what happened.”

“You couldn’t have done something that bad,” you replied, almost instinctively.

Rue let out a humorless laugh.

“I relapsed after my ex left me for the city.” Her jaw tightened as she said it. “It was ugly. I kept chasing after them like nothing had happened like I could somehow love them hard enough to make them stay.”

Your eyes widened as the confession settled between you. The vulnerability of it made your chest ache.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine how you felt in that moment.”

“It’s whatever,” Rue said with a shrug, though her voice betrayed something softer underneath. “She moved on, and so did I because now I’m in some random bathroom talking to a stranger.”

You smiled faintly and nodded, pretending to agree, though the moment felt far from random now.

Rue’s fingers remained on your thigh, her grip light but deliberate, and it made your skin grow hot beneath her touch. Your eyes dropped to her lips, then lifted back to her eyes.

She noticed.

Of course she did.

The silence between you turned thick, charged with something neither of you wanted to name. Your heart beat loud enough to hear, and before doubt could stop you, you leaned forward and crashed your lips into hers.

Rue froze for half a second—surprised, maybe—but then she kissed you back like she’d been waiting for it. Her hand slid higher against your thigh as she deepened the kiss, her lips warm and slightly chapped against yours.

It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t careful. It was messy in the way first kisses often are—driven more by feeling than thought.

And somehow, that made it better.

Your hand found the edge of the sink behind you to steady yourself as Rue stepped closer, the small bathroom shrinking even further around you. The tissue on your injured palm had long been forgotten.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.

“That,” Rue whispered, her lips still brushing yours, “wasn’t very stranger-like of you.”

“I couldn’t resist it,” you murmured, a grin tugging at your lips. “All that small talk and no first move. Somebody had to do it.”

“Shut up,” Rue whispered.

But there was no bite behind it, only amusement.

Her hand tightened around your waist, pulling you back toward her before you could say anything else. Her lips met yours again, slower this time, less rushed but somehow more intense. Like now that the line had been crossed, neither of you felt the need to pretend anymore.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, drawing her closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies. Rue’s palm pressed firmly against the small of your back, grounding you there, as if she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

The kiss deepened naturally—warm, lingering, exploratory. The kind that made time soften around the edges.

Outside the bathroom door, the party carried on: music thumping, people laughing, bottles clinking; but inside, it felt suspended. Quiet.

Rue pulled away just enough to look at you, her lips swollen, her eyes lower than before but clearer somehow.

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who kisses strangers in bathrooms,” she whispered.

You smiled.

“And you answer a lot of them for someone who claims not to like people.”

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 | 𝐑𝐮𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Rating: M for Mature

warnings: beach setting, Toxic Relationship, smoking, gaslighting, inspired by Waves (2019)

The sand slipped between your toes and poured back into the shore as you sat listening to the waves. Your high slowly faded along with your thoughts, leaving nothing but the steady sound of the ocean. Water reached the hems of your shorts each time the tide rolled in, cooling your skin before retreating again.

Your eyes drifted over to Rue, who was stretched across a towel with a cigarette balanced between her fingers. Her skin glowed beneath the orange sunset while loose curls framed her face perfectly, moving with every breeze that came off the water.

You brushed the sand from your hands and pushed yourself to your feet before making your way over to her.

“Rue, we should start getting ready to go home,” you reminded her. “It’s getting dark, and I have work in the morning.”

“Just a little longer,” Rue whined, reaching for your hand and pulling you down onto her lap until you were tucked against her chest.

Smoke drifted past your nose as you settled into her embrace, the familiar scent mixing with saltwater and sunscreen. As much as the two of you fought, these quiet moments always made everything else disappear. For a little while, it was just the waves, the fading sun, and Rue holding you close like she had nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Why do we fight all the time? It doesn’t do us any good,” you muttered.

Rue didn’t say a word. She simply exhaled a stream of smoke into the evening air and sat in silence.

It ate away at you, how easily she could dodge conversations like this. Like all the hurt and frustration could disappear if she ignored it long enough. Your eyes dropped to the strings of your bottoms, fingers absentmindedly tugging at the knots while Rue finished the last of her cigarette.

“We don’t fight,” she finally said, flicking the ash into the sand. “We just have disagreements, and that’s okay.”

You rolled your eyes as the words left her mouth and pushed yourself off her lap. Sand clung to the backs of your legs while you brushed yourself off, keeping your back turned to her.

“No, Rue. Disagreeing is arguing over what movie to watch or where to eat. This…” You gestured between the two of you before letting your hand fall to your side. “This is me trying to tell you how I feel and you pretending everything’s fine.”

Rue stared at the dying ember between her fingers until it burned too close to her skin. She hissed quietly and crushed it into the sand, finally looking up at you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say something.”

The waves filled the silence that followed, crashing against the shore in slow, steady rhythms. The sun had nearly disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving streaks of pink and orange across the sky.

Rue reached for your hand, her fingertips barely grazing yours.

“I stay because I love you,” she whispered. “I just don’t know how to talk about the rest.”

Your anger softened for only a second before you slipped your hand away.

“And that’s exactly why we keep ending up here.”

Rue let her hand fall back into the sand.

The space between the two of you suddenly felt bigger than the entire beach. People packed up their umbrellas in the distance, children chased each other through the shallow water, and somewhere behind you a radio played a song neither of you bothered to recognize.

You hugged your knees to your chest and watched the last bit of sunlight disappear.

“I don’t need everything to be perfect,” you said quietly. “I just need to know I’m not the only one trying.”

Rue’s jaw tightened, “You think I’m not trying?”

“I think you’re scared.”

She laughed once, dry and humorless.

“Yeah? And what are you?”

You opened your mouth, ready with another comeback, but nothing came out.

Because she wasn’t wrong, you were scared too. Scared that one day she’d stop reaching for your hand. Scared that every goodbye would be the last one. Scared that loving Rue meant constantly waiting for the version of her that only showed up when the world wasn’t weighing on her shoulders.

“I hate when you look at me like that,” Rue mumbled.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re already leaving.”

The words settled somewhere deep inside your chest. You looked over at her. The wind tossed curls across her face, and without thinking you reached over and tucked them behind her ear.

“I’m still here.”

Rue leaned into your touch for only a second before closing her eyes.

“I know.”

Another wave rolled over your feet, soaking the cuffs of your shorts.

The silence wasn’t angry anymore. It was tired.

Rue pulled a fresh cigarette from the pack in her pocket, turning it between her fingers before placing it back inside.

“I won’t smoke another one,” she said.

You looked at her, confused.

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’ll complain that my hoodie smells like cigarettes when you steal it tomorrow.”

A smile escaped before you could stop it.

“I do not steal your hoodies.”

“You have three of them.”

“They’re basically mine now.”

Rue laughed, a real one this time, soft enough that it almost disappeared into the sound of the ocean.

She shifted closer until your shoulders touched.

“You know,” she whispered, “I still think we’re okay.”

You rested your head against hers.

“I think we’re trying.”

For a while, neither of you moved.

The moon climbed higher, replacing the sunset with silver reflections across the water. Cars slowly emptied the parking lot until only a handful remained.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

8:47 p.m.

You sighed.

“Seriously, we have to go.”

Rue groaned dramatically and flopped backward onto the towel.

“Five more minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“And look how much emotional growth happened.”

You couldn’t help laughing. You reached down and grabbed both of her hands, trying to pull her to her feet. Instead, Rue tugged harder. You lost your balance with a surprised yelp and landed right on top of her, sand flying everywhere.

For the first time all evening, neither of you thought about the argument.

Rue looked up at you with a grin that made your chest ache.

“I win.”

“You cheated.”

“I improvised.”

Before you could argue, she leaned forward and kissed you. Slow enough that the waves kept crashing around you. Gentle enough that you almost forgot every harsh word exchanged an hour earlier.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against yours.

“I’m still learning,” she admitted.

You nodded.

“So am I.”

synopsis: Rue takes you to a speakeasy for this week's date night. It starts tame but once the patron hits your lips, you want Rue right then and there. 

warnings: sexual themes, alcohol usage, makeout session, asking for consent, fingering, public restroom, loud sex, drunk.

A/N: This is the result ya'll voted for!

It was date night, and you were excited to see where Rue was taking you. Last week, she surprised you with a trip to the aquarium and a movie since you had been obsessed with The Shape of Water and the different types of fish featured throughout the film.

You stood in front of the mirror, putting on your new brown maxi dress and adjusting your gold hoops. The outfit felt perfect, simple but still special enough for a night out with her. You couldn’t help but smile as you thought about what Rue had planned this time.

An orange poppy bouquet sat spread across the table, waiting for you to notice the small note tucked between the flowers. The little card, decorated with gold embossed lettering on the outside, seemed to hold a secret of its own, almost as if it was waiting impatiently for you to open it.

Before you could bend down to smell them, Rue entered the room fresh out of the shower. Her hair was still slightly damp, and the scent of her shampoo lingered as she walked over to you. She smiled softly before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The smell of her floral shampoo filled the room as you watched her get ready. She slipped into a blue striped dress shirt and jeans before carefully drying her hair to keep her clothes from getting damp.

You couldn’t help but admire her through the mirror, watching the little things she did without even realizing how much you loved them.

Her delicate hands explored the jewelry box, carefully picking out each piece before placing her gold accessories on one by one. First came the rings, then the necklace, and lastly the small studs that completed the look.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” she exclaimed excitedly, turning off the lights before grabbing your hand and leading you toward the car.

The passenger door opened as she held it for you, letting you carefully climb inside.

The ride was slow but scenic. Jill Scott played softly through the speakers as you looked out the window, taking in the glowing city lights and passing street signs. Everything felt peaceful, like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Thank you, Rue,” you said softly. “It’s really great to see you making progress and putting thought into things like this for us.”

Rue smiled, keeping her eyes on the road as she listened.

“You know, years ago I wouldn’t have been able to do this,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m so grateful for you and your presence in my life.”

You smiled to yourself, turning your attention back toward the outside world.

The brightly lit speakeasy came into view, waiting patiently in the distance. Its warm glow and inviting atmosphere called you in, promising a night full of memories waiting to be made.

Rue pulled into a nearby parking spot, letting the engine fall quiet as the two of you sat there for a moment. The soft music continued playing in the background, filling the silence between you with a familiar comfort.

She glanced over at you with a small smile, her hand reaching across the console to find yours.

“Ready?” she asked, her thumb brushing gently against your skin.

You looked back at the glowing entrance, the excitement slowly building in your chest. It wasn’t just the mystery of where she was taking you or what she had planned. It was the fact that Rue was trying. She was showing you a side of herself that once felt impossible to reach, and you loved watching her grow into someone who allowed herself to create moments like this.

You squeezed her hand before nodding.

“Ready.”

Rue smiled, stepping out of the car before walking around to open your door. The cool night air brushed against your skin as she offered you her hand, guiding you toward the entrance.

The city moved around you, cars passing by and strangers rushing to their own destinations, but for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you walking into the night together.

You were handed a shot before entering completely into the speakeasy. The two of you exchanged a glance before raising your glasses, swallowing down the Patron and letting the warmth smoothly slide down your throats and settle into your stomachs.

The music surrounded you as you stepped further inside, the dim lighting casting a golden glow over the room. The atmosphere felt alive, filled with laughter, conversation, and the soft hum of the night.

Rue grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the dance floor, a playful smile spreading across her face.

She twirled you around, laughing as your dress moved with every spin. For a moment, everything else disappeared. The worries, the past, and everything waiting outside those walls faded away.

It was just you and Rue, lost in the music and in each other.

As the night began to slow down, the liquor started to take effect. Your eyes grew heavy, slightly glazed as you watched Rue from across the table, unable to pull your attention away from her.

Her voice sat low in her throat as she talked to you, soft and comforting beneath the quiet hum of the speakeasy. You listened to every word, even when the alcohol made your thoughts feel slower and the world around you blurrier.

There was something about the way she spoke, the way she looked at you, that made the entire night feel like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

“I wanna take you out that dress.” She whispered into your ear.

You nodded your head slowly. There was nothing more in the world that you wanted more than that. You guided towards the women’s restroom locking the door behind you. Rue devoured you immediately. Her hands underneath your dress removing your panties.

The rhythm of the music allowing yourself to let go and go along with the beat. You moved your hips and swayed while Rue discovered your insides. Her fingers slithering inside.

A gasp left your throat as you felt the foreign object inside. The pulsating sensation of your skin pumping against her fingers.

“This okay?” she whispered.

“Yes, keep going like that.”

You rocked against her fingers wanting to scratch that itch.

Her lips attached itself back to your neck.

You bit down on your fingers trapping your voice inside your soul.

“Let them hear you, baby.”

Your voice found its own and bounced off the walls. Your sweet moans like music to Rue’s ears as she kept finding your spot at the right angle.

Your leg propped over Rue’s shoulder and your hand gripping the sink trying to keep yourself steady. Your body shaking from the pressure building up inside.

“I can’t, I can’t.” you begged for mercy. “Rue…take it out, I can’t take anymore.”

She ignored your plea and stuffed them inside further. The stretch making you scream with joy. The burn felt too good to stop but you were so close that you wanted to cry.

“Shh Shh. Breath.” She motioned, inhaling and exhaling with you.

“Fuck.” you cried.

Rue allowed her index finger to finish the job, pressing against your button activating your floodgates.

The slick dripped down her fingers as she pulled them out, sucking the flavor off her fingertips in front of you.

It was sexy, dangerous, and erotic.

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𝐁𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐑𝐮𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Airing in 1997, Buzzcut Season follows the journey of a lonely peasant named Rue, longing for a better life. She dreams of joining the men on the battlefield, fighting in war to earn her badge of honor and prove her courage. Amid the grief and hardship of her story, a princess sits within her kingdom, preparing for an arranged marriage to a prince she has never known. Though the two are burdened by similar emotions, it is opportunity and circumstance that slowly draw them closer.