ᯓ✦∘˙ FEELINGS IN BETWEEN LINES ꨄ
pairing: butch!ray x fem reader
-> synopsis: being a broke college student with rent overdue and hope running thin, finding a roommate was a most, and to your luck, a windy afternoon brought a curly haired gal with a guitar strapped to her back and a toothy grin to your doorstep holding one of the many flyers you scattered around campus. She wasn’t put your way to only solve your finances but the void that slowly grew into something neither would expect, she came to prove some people don’t just help you survive—they teach you how to live again.
-> cw: porn w/plot, cunnilingus, foreplay, mentions of abusive relationships, soft!dom, cursing
in honor of pride month, for baby’s birthday and for my lovely #wuhluhwuh !!
The perks of living with your best friend were plenty: a comforting presence to come home to after an overwhelming day of classes or a stressful shift at work. A great company to not only talk to but, one that listens and advises you when your mind isn’t in the right place. A friend who partakes in any silly idea you have, such as helping you bake whenever you wanted, taking you out to thrift, being your second opinion, helping you decide over what pants to buy, if they needed to be tighter or the shirt skimpier. She was so committed to making your wishes true that she would drive you to questionable places that earned both of you confused looks because you swore you would find the meanest pair of platforms in town down in the sketchy alley.
Ray was that friend, the person who supported your wrongs and rights while still balancing out your chaos—she was the stability you never asked for, but needed. You guys ended up living together because you attended the same college. She saw your flyer about looking for a roommate, agreed to rent a place instead of staying in dorms, and, luckily, it turned out to be better than either of you expected.
The apartment was small and cluttered, but it shortly grew into a shared space of late night study sessions while her guitar riffs echoed down the hallway, cleaning and complaining about exams while Ray cooked and laughter slipping through cracked doors after long days.
You became a great addition to her life in ways she’d never imagined, you made her feel less alone, appreciated, and loved. Besides being her partner in crime, you cracked her shell open, giving her the spark of life she had been missing. You supported her dream of being in a band, pushing her to exploit the potential and talent she carried, encouraging her to step out into the scene and claim the space she was always meant to be in.
You began to attend her shows as soon as she told you about them, you were there for all of it. Before, unpacking the van and setting everything up, making sure everything was set and ready; during, standing by the sidelines, exchanging smiles and knowing looks; and after, staying until the last cable was wrapped and the van was packed tight with equipment.
She was a blessing in disguise and in between the sleepless nights, chords, and quiet drives home—you began to realize that she felt the same way.
A couple of days into spring break had passed and you were through the roof, blabbering Ray’s ears off about your upcoming trip with your boyfriend to Pennsylvania. You hadn’t been seeing him as much lately, midterms and overlapping schedules had been pulling you both in different directions, causing fights and disagreements neither of you really knew how to untangle. Still, to ease the tension, he convinced you to take a road trip to the nearby state for the remainder of the break.
On the other hand, the trip itself wasn’t the real reason you were so excited. One of your favorite bands had announced they were playing in the area you were visiting, and you suspected your boyfriend might’ve gotten you tickets. You guys were nearing the one year mark, and after all the time you’d missed with each other, you thought maybe he’d surprise you with something special.
“I’m telling you Ray, he’s getting me tickets for London after midnight! You squealed with excitement as you plopped on the living room couch.
“I don’t know, I doubt he would.” Ray scoffed, rolling her eyes at your cluelessness. She knew your boyfriend, and you weren’t on good terms. To be fair, she had already recognized his pattern. Messing up, offering a vague apology, then pulling out some lame excuse to make you forget whatever he’d done.
“c’mon ray, don’t need to be so optimistic,” you rolled your eyes, throwing a pillow at her. “It’s a year…he has to do something!”
Ray caught the pillow, her expression softening for a split second before it hardened again. “Or,” she said cautiously, “he does what he always does. The bare minimum and you convince yourself it’s enough.”
Your smile soon dropped, you hated when she spoke like that—observant, almost too sure. Ray was always honest when she knew you were getting ahead of yourself, however, the excitement in your chest still flickered at the idea. You clung to it, even if it felt surreal.
“He wouldn’t take me out to Philly just for nothing,” you rebutted, not knowing if you were convincing her or yourself.
Ray didn’t argue further. She just leaned back against the armrest, studying you in that calm and cautious way she did when she wanted you to admit to doing wrong.
“Gee got a call from a venue that wants us to play,” she broke the silence. “It’s in Philly. Don’t know if it’ll land the same day as your plans, but hey, if he flakes, you could always come watch us.”She cut through the tension with a half-smile, pretending it was just a joke.
You crossed your arms. “He won’t.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, unconvinced. A few minutes later, she got up and headed to her room, leaving you behind, lost in thought about what could possibly go down.
Her words lingered longer than you expected. Not because you believed he would fail you, but, because a small part of you knew that if he did, Ray would be there. And somehow, that felt like the safer bet.
Bags were packed, you grabbed your coat and took a last look at the apartment, a small sigh left you as you saw the note Ray had left hanging on the fridge before she left in the morning.
Remember, I’m just a call away :)”
You shook your head, swallowing the strange knot forming in your throat, but the sharp honk from outside snapped you back into reality. He was here.
The drive started with a stiff hug and a quick kiss that felt more routine than longing. You slid into the passenger seat, smoothing your pants as he pulled away from the curb. For a while, there was nothing but the hum of static from the radio and the city passing by in blurs of red lights and frayed buildings.
You glanced at him. “So… how’ve you been?”
“Busy,” he replied shortly, coldly, eyes bored on the road. “Work. Study. Sleep.”
You nodded, waiting for him to keep up the pace of conversation, yet, silence lingered before trying again. “I could say the same. I’ve been studying a lot. Midterms were rough.” You awkwardly chuckled.
He hummed in acknowledgment.
“I’ve also been helping Ray out more,” you added, absentmindedly. “Going to her shows, helping her rehearse. The band is actually getting a lot of traction lately.” You said, a faint smile on your face at the mention of her name.
The grip on the steering wheel tightened. The vibe went off. “Her shows?” he shook his head, a sour chuckle came out of him.
“Yeah,” you uttered, almost too quiet. “She’s been needing help anyway, so why wouldn’t I tag along?”
“You always seem to be involved in that crap,” he scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. “Funny how you have time for that but not me.” He spat, refusing to look your way.
You shifted, this time taking a closer look at him, brows pulling together. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, processing what he had just said to you.
“It means,” he exhaled, jaw clenching, “you’re always running around for her, going out to shows, playing manager or whatever—but when it comes to us, suddenly you’re ‘busy.’”
“That’s not fucking true,” you chided. “You’re the one who barely calls, but hangs out with their friends and I never bitch about em’, I’m allowed to support my friend too!”
He let out a dry laugh. “Support. Right. That’s what we’re calling it now?”
You stared at him, your hands gripped the hem of your hoodie impossibly tight, and your cheeks burned as rage crept upon you. “Then what is it, huh?” You shouted, you knew he was partially right, you had been spending most of your days with Ray, however, he was no saint either. He had been ignoring your messages and calls and replied a day or so later.
“It just seems like you care more about that dyke than whatever is happening between us.”
The word didn’t just land
“Don’t you fucking dare call her that,” you lashed out, your head snapping toward him so fast your seatbelt locked against your chest. Your heart pumped fast inside you threatening to burst, you were fuming.
He kept his eyes on the road, not affected in the slightest by your reaction, like he hadn’t just said something vile. Like it was casual.
“What? That’s what she is, isn’t it?” he mocked, his voice rising, cutting. “She’s a fucking dyke who’s clearly trying to get in your pants, and you’re sitting there playing dumb like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing while you have a boyfriend.” Now this time he met your gaze, it was threatening.
Your hand slammed against the dashboard before you could stop yourself. “Pull over.”
“I said pull. the. fuck. over.”
Your voice rang through the car, you couldn’t take it anymore. The car swerved slightly, your boyfriend cursing under his breath. Cars sped past on the highway, horns blaring in protest. You were hyperaware of everything. The speed, the thin white lines on the asphalt, the way your heart was pounding so hard it made your fingers tremble.
“You’re being dramatic,” he snapped, getting himself back on the road, foot dragging into the pedal going faster as your voices progressively got louder.
“I’m just saying the truth, you’re getting heated because you know it’s true.” He argued, pointing at you roughly, feeling as if he got any closer his finger would cut you.
“Truth?” you shot back. “Or a back-handed comment because you’re insecure? Because I support her and she actually cares about me?”
“You’re obsessed with her,” he barked, you could see saliva spitting at how loud the words came out “It’s always Ray this, Ray that. Her shows. Her. Where do I fit in?”
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head in disgust. “You fit in just fine. You just hate that she’s in my life more than you are.”
The air in the car felt suffocating. Stuffy. The kind that sticks to your skin and makes your body nauseous. You were right, you had no intention of giving him more than what he deserved, he had lost that, and Ray had occupied that space long before you came to terms with it.
“She’s my best friend,” you continued, voice steadier now but no less sharp. “She’s worked her ass off for that band. I’m proud of her. So keep her name out your fucking mouth.”
He grumbled, wiping his mouth roughly, as if he had just been told off.
“You defend her real quick, do you notice that? He snorted in disgust, his free hand gripping his hair out in desperation.
“Because you’re being an asshole,” you fired back instantly.
Silence followed, an uncomfortable one. The kind where the only sound left is the tires screeching on the pavement and two people who would rather be at any place than here sitting inches apart but miles away from each other.
You turned back towards the window, blinking unsteadily, refusing to let him see your eyes gloss over. The city signs that read “Welcome to Philadelphia” grew closer, but the excitement you once clung to faded every mile taken off the road signs.
Now, the trip felt less like a surprise and more like a mistake you were previously warned of.
“Ray c’mon, we have to rehearse. Our show’s in two hours,” Frankie called, spotting her friend tucked away in the corner she’s been pondering life for now 40 minutes.
Frankie had noticed Ray had been particularly off the entire drive to Philly. She drove, so no one pressed her too much, but her usual hums to the radio were absent and her commentary was nowhere heard, or her typical retelling of whatever Gerard and Frankie were bickering about in the backseat. Just silence and the occasional exhales.
“I’ll be there soon,” she replied with a sigh, pushing herself off the wall, grabbing her worn binder of music, edges bent and pages sticking out, and heading towards the stage where the rest of the girls were tuning and setting up.
The venue smelled like dust and old wood, strings being plucked and amps buzzing low filling the space. Ray slipped her guitar strap over her shoulder, adjusting it without care, knowingly her mind was elsewhere.
Gerard leaned closer to Frankie, eyes following Ray as she walked in.
“She’s been off, but she doesn’t wanna spit it out,” Frankie muttered, her arms crossed.
“Well, I’ll give ya’ a hint, her sweet little thing is around the area” Gee whispered, nudging Frankie with her elbow.
Frankie squinted her eyes trying to think of a name. “You mean her roommate?” she replied, a knowing look on her face connecting the dots.
Gerard nodded subtly toward Ray. “Mhm. Heard they’re in Philly this weekend. But, with her boyfriend.”
Frankie’s mouth twisted. “That explains it, tsk.”
As Ray set herself up, paying no mind to what Gerard and Frankie loudly discussed, her grip on the fretboard tightened slightly at the mention of your name, playing a chord, sounding sharper than intended.
“Explains what?” she blurted back without looking at them, her grip now rigid. Ray wasn’t one to get defensive but this whole situation carrying over into the stage made her upset.
Gerard smirked faintly, walking closer. “You’ve been cranky since we crossed state lines.” “Something on your mind?”
She approached, eyes burning into her.
“I’m not cranky,” Ray hissed, grabbing her binder and flipping through it a little too aggressively for her liking. Pages rustling obnoxiously.
Frankie stepped in, softer. “You think she’ll come see ya’?”
Her fingers stilled against the paper. For a second, the venue noise dulled around her.
“I don’t know,” she said, voice lower now. “She’s going somewhere else.”
Gerard crossed her arms. “And?”
“And nothing,” Ray snapped, finally looking up, a noticeable twitch in her eye. “We have a show to focus on, girls.”
But the edge in her voice gave her away. Ray was easy to read whenever it came to you, she didn’t play in the slightest about her girl, the one who wasn’t hers but her heart’s.
Frankie walked over, bumping her shoulder gently. “You can focus all you want, but don’t let it eat you alive”
Ray swallowed thickly, adjusting her grip on the guitar. “It won’t.”
As soon as rehearsal began, her brain centered around the performance that was taking place in just a couple of hours, rhythms and notes synchronizing with Gerard’s voice, mixing and creating a beautiful sound, one that spoke more than words. The show was on.
By the time the lights dimmed in the venue, the chatter of the crowd had settled into a low hum of anticipation. Ray brushed her curls that stuck to her face, glancing at her wrist, seeing the bracelet you had given her after a trip to the beach, it was a little worn out, the charms were chipped but it felt as if a part of you were there with her. Her attention fell over the fretboard one last time as Frankie helped adjust a mic stand for her.
From the corner of her eye, she watched the girls finish getting settled, her palms started to sweat, but she quickly dismissed them by wiping them on her pants. It was like any other show.
You can’t let her control you this way.
Gerard stepped up to the front of the stage, introducing the band to the crowd. Her voice carried over the chatter, commanding attention without any major effort. Ray’s pulse skipped a beat as the applause around her scattered. She scanned the crowd mindlessly, heart thumping, without hope, to see your face. But you weren’t there. Her chest tightened just a little, a pang she shoved down before it could pull her out of focus.
She shook her head slightly, forcing her attention back to the music. The opening chords flowed through her fingers, the rhythm syncing perfectly with Gerard’s voice. Every note, every beat, felt like it belonged to her, to this moment. Her eyes flicked once toward Frankie, who gave her a small, knowing glance, just enough to remind her she wasn’t alone. That quiet support steadied her, and she dove back into the song.
The set carried on flawlessly. The energy was overbearing, the crowd alive, shouting, clapping, moving to the beat of the band. Sweat prickled at her forehead, her fingers ached, her lips tasted like iron but the adrenaline was too much to care. By the final song, Ray could feel the high everyone shared—the audience, the band, the very air radiating with it.
As Gerard sang the last note, the screams roared, echoing off the walls. She smiled, lifting a hand. “We’re My Chemical Romance from New Jersey! Thanks for coming out!”
The lights dulled and one by one, the band quickly moved off the stage and Ray didn’t miss the chance. She was the first to slip backstage, heart still racing and a hand tugging at her shirt. In the quiet, she let herself breathe, hesitant, but also thrilled after the night she’d just owned.
In the midst of catching her breathe she quickly locked herself in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror, palms pressed against the cool edge of the sink. The fluorescent lights were making her nauseous, and sweat was getting caught at her temples.
“What is wrong with you?” she muttered under her breath, her fingers traced over the curve of her cheek, then her jaw, pressing harder as if the pressure would pull her back into herself. But it didn’t. The skin was warm, damp from sweat, familiar in every way and still it felt distant, unrecognizable, like touching someone else’s reflection through glass.
Ray swallowed, trembling, her thumb dragging under her eye.
No grounding. No spark of recognition. Just the dull awareness that her face was there and she was….somewhere behind it.
“What the hell…” she muttered in ragged breaths. Her hand moved again, slower this time, fingertips ghosting over the bridge of her nose, down to her lips. She pressed them together tightly, like she could hold something in before it slipped out. The light bulb buzzed above her, too bright, making everything feel sterile and exposed.
The realization had crept in quietly over the past few weeks, settling into the spaces between moments of coming home to see an exhausted, drained version of yourself trying to stay awake just to greet her, covers disheveled and a plate of food now gone cold and stale beside you. The smell of your body wash mixed with the perfume you used clinging to her hoodies whenever you didn’t feel like wearing yours. Your quiet sobs and sniffing were heard through the thin walls—another day where your boyfriend cancelled plans, and you laughed it off as something stupid he said. The way her attention followed you without thinking. The way the thought of you with someone who didn’t care left a sour weight sitting in her chest.
Ray’s hand dropped from her face, gripping the edge of the sink again.
“God, that’s—” she cut herself off, shaking her head.
The word sat heavy in her chest.
She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning forward until her forehead nearly touched the mirror. Every time she replayed the feeling in her head it made her skin crawl, not because it was you, but because it was you. The one person she wasn’t supposed to blur lines with. The one person she trusted herself around without thinking.
And now every memory felt different.
Every time your shoulder bumped into hers.
Every moment she’d console you when he couldn’t, wrapping you in her arms, pressing you onto her chest.
Ray dragged a hand down her face again, slower this time, like she was trying to wipe the feeling off.
“For fuck’s sake, what am I doing” voice barely above a whisper.
You flickered in her mind again. Your smile, the way you looked at her during shows like she hung the damn moon and her chest tightened in a way she couldn’t ignore.
Not casually, she liked you in a harmless way she tried to convince herself of. The kind that crept into her books and lyrics, when you laughed too hard at something she said, that made her scan every crowd for your face before she even tuned her guitar.
A sudden knock at the bathroom door snapped her out of it.
Her head lifted, pulse jumping. “m’busy,” she yelled, voice cracking in the midst of it.
Another knock, softer this time.
She recognized that voice anywhere.
She hesitated for half a second before unlocking the door.
When she pulled it open, there you were, however not entirely there.
Mascara stained beneath your eyes, smudged like you’d given up taking it off. Your breathing wasn’t steady either. You looked ruined, like you’d been crying your heart out.
All her self-consciousness vanished in her head when she took a good look at you.
“What happened?” she asked immediately, stepping closer without thinking.
You let out a shaky grin that didn’t sound like you at all. “I made it,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Ray’s eyes searched your face, the ruined mascara, the glassy shine in your eyes. Her chest ached in a completely different way now.
“You were here?” she asked, softer.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” you whispered.
For a second, neither of you moved. The tension wasn’t loud, it was fragile. Heavy. Her earlier guilt tangled with something warmer, something dangerous.
She swallowed. “You’ve been crying, honey.”
You shrugged like it was nothing, but your lip trembled just slightly. “Doesn’t matter either way, it’s stupid”
Ray reached out before she could stop herself, thumb brushing carefully under your eye, catching the smear of black. Her touch was gentle. As if you were porcelain.
“It’s not stupid,” she reassured. “Not if it made you cry.”
Her hand lingered a second too long before she forced herself to pull it back. The mirror behind her reflected both of you now, too close, too honest.
“I dumped him, you were right.” You confessed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “He didn’t have anything special besides being a total wreck. I should’ve listened to you. He said some pretty nasty things about you and—”
Ray’s voice cut in softly but firmly, gently grabbing your wrist to stop the spiral of words before it could keep spilling out.
“That doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, curls bouncing off her face. “Seriously. I didn’t like him anyway.”
You sniffed, looking up at her through wet lashes.
“He was a complete jerk, think I didn’t hear ya’ cry your pretty face off in your room?,” she continued with a small shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And more importantly
You deserve way better than that asshole.”
Her thumb brushed across the back of your hand without her realizing it.
“You deserve someone who actually knows your worth,” Ray continued. “Someone who takes you to a proper concert, stands next to you in the crowd, and doesn’t act like you supporting your friends is some kind of threat.” She scoffed lightly. “Not some idiot who drops you off in the middle of the highway like you’re some kind of disposable.”
That made a weak, wary laugh slip out of you despite the tears.
“When you put it like that, it sounds even worse.”
“Because it is worse,” Ray cooed. “You put up with way too much from him.”
You looked down, ashamed. “I just…I thought if I tried harder it would work.”
Ray leaned back for a moment, studying you for a second. Her expression softened.
“You know,” she gulped, “you’re not the only one who’s bad at saying things out loud.”
You frowned, confused at the sudden confession. “What do you mean?”
She hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck.
“I’ve been… conflicted about stuff too,” Ray admitted. “For the same reason, honestly. Not being verbal. Letting things sit in my head instead of actually saying them.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “You?”
“Yeah, me,” she huffed, a crooked smile tugging at her mouth. “Shocking, right?”
You wiped your cheeks, curiosity replacing some of the sadness.
“I just—” Ray exhaled. “I didn’t want to make things weird. Or mess up what we already have.”
There was a beat of quiet between you.
Then suddenly you both started laughing.
It started small—just a breathy chuckle—but it quickly grew into something bigger, the tension snapping like a stretched rubber band.
“God,” you laughed, covering your face. “This whole week has been insane.”
“Insane?” Ray echoed, grinning. “You got stranded on a highway, dumped a guy, and ended up crying to me while having a breakdown in this crusty bar’s bathroom that reeks of piss and god knows what else!”
“You’re terrible,” you said in between laughs, playfully smacking her arm.
“And you dated a guy who thought being jealous of a guitarist was a personality trait,” she shot back.
“That’s fair,” you admitted, still giggling.
The laughter slowly faded, but the warmth of it lingered. The room felt smaller somehow, quieter.
Ray was still smiling, but mellowed now.
Neither of you looked away.
Her gaze flicked down briefly to your lips before she caught herself. But the moment had already shifted.
“Yeah?” she said quietly.
You weren’t even sure who moved first.
Maybe it was both of you.
Her hand slid up from your wrist to your cheek, tentative at first, like she was giving you time to stop her. When you didn’t, you leaned into her touch instead, something in her expression melted.
The kiss was gentle. Careful.
Like both of you were testing it. Scared of scaring one another.
But when your fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt and she felt you pull her just a little closer, Ray kissed you again—this time with a smile so wide against your lips, the earlier chaos of the night dissolved into something warm and endearing between you.
The dim light of the motel room casts soft shadows across the crinkled sheets, the air thick with the scent of sweat, spit, and desire. After the show ended Ray offered to let you stay the night at some place and drive you both back home in the morning, this turned into swapping spit and desperately to find closure in the 4 walls of this room. She always tried to find a way to brighten your mood, you thought. And tonight was no different, as tears and mascara stained your cheeks, her hand sneaked down the waistband of your jeans to find the best way to ease your pain.
“You’re so fucking unreal, angel.” she purred, her lips pressing on your pulse point, a whine escaping you, one that made her bite harder. You nod, breathless, as the realization creeps onto you—the same girl who got shy after finding out her dinosaur collection had your panties in a twist.
“So cute, you’re so cute angel,” she whispered, her voice laced with need, easing you back against the mattress, her hands making quick work of your pants, giving you a knowing look before proceeding any further. "You sure you want this, baby" she murmured, pressing a peck on your temple.
“Anything if it’s with you.” you responded, reaching out to squeeze her hand. The gesture made her melt, cheeks burning a pretty pink you had seen after she drinks out her mind, cheesing like there was no tomorrow.
Leaving one last kiss on your lips, she trailed down your inner thigh spreading your legs wide looking at your soaked panties. "You’re stunning doll, already so wet already f’me. wanted this for so long, wanted to taste you, to make you feel like no one else could ever do." Her praise, heavy with passion and warmth made you squirm. Ray carefully placed herself between your legs, teeth gripping your underwear down your legs, leaving you exposed, raw.
“Don’t be shy, open up, I wanna see you baby.” She cooed, holding your legs apart with her big arms, the same ones you’d ogled every time she flexed whenever she opened a jar, or held you when you whined her to teach you chords on her guitar. Her breath fanged against your core, you could feel her panting, eyes drowsy and lost in thought, this was making you dizzy.
Her tongue flicked out to trace your folds, slow and deliberate, lapping at your pussy with filthy strokes, circling your clit before sucking it gently between her lips. "S’taste incredible, doll," she moaned against you, the vibration sending shivers up your spine. "Sweet and perfect, just like I dreamed you'd be. You're my everything, you know that? The way you open up for me... fuck, hottest thing I've ever seen." Her praise poured out, relentlessly and adoring, as she indulged deeper, her tongue moving expertly inside you, curling to hit that sensitive spot that made your hips buck. All your worries washed away as she worked you up, she was all you needed in this moment.
She soon pulled your shirt down exposing your tits, she knew you weren’t a fan of wearing a bra, and nevertheless when you were around her. Her mouth wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping at it, little gasps could be heard from your part, fingers threading through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Ray doesn't hold back—lips and tongue working in tandem, sucking and licking, fingers working expertly in your insides. "That's it, baby," she groans between licks, her voice muffled. “You're so responsive, my pretty girl. Bet he never spoiled this pussy as I do. Never made you feel this alive." Her hand soon came to grip your thighs, holding you steady as she toyed with your breast while two of her fingers pumped inside of you.
Her words made you shiver and your legs quiver, you could feel the mattress move as she humped your thigh with vigor, It wasn’t long until the coil in your stomach threatened to burst, soon enough your grip on her curls tightened accompanied by a shaky moan of her name.
“So close! m’cumming ray,, please”
You moaned tugging at her curls, she moaned loudly at the gesture, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she also reached her high. She soon rested her face on your tummy, trying to catch her breath.
“You’re okay princess?” she asked, caressing your waist, still trying to get a hold of her breath. “m’alright” you slurred, you came back to your senses shortly after realizing your figure was visibly naked while she was still practically dressed. “It’s not fair you still have your clothes on” you huffed, earning a sly smile from her. “I wanted this to be about you, nothing wrong with giving my pretty girl a mind-blowing orgasm.” That earned her a slap on her shoulder, your shy nature settling in once again.
“Promise next time a guy thinks he can walk over you, you call me.“
“There won’t ever be a next time, promise.”