#bianca del rio x reader

[embeehatesbee]

“You’re beautiful.” (BIANCA DEL RIO/ROY HAYLOCK X READER)

IN WHICH, Roy finds you struggling to put your jeans on.

I’m back with another Bianca short fic. I saw these pictures and immediately thought of a story, I just had to write it.

Trigger warnings: none.

Not proof read

You struggle trying to fit into your jeans. The same jeans you have been wearing since high-school.

Roy watched you jump around your bedroom, this was the first time this had happened and was causing you a lot of trouble.

Roy finally made his presence known by kissing his teeth and walking toward you with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Looking up at him, he was topless and wearing a pair of joggers and socks. With sweat on your forehead, you shook your head as Roy wraps you in his embrace. "My jeans don't fit me anymore."

"That doesn't matter, my love." He knelt down to your level, taking your hands with his and leaving soft kisses on your knuckles. "Jeans shrink."

"Or maybe I'm just too fat." Being abruptly cut off from your boyfriend.

"Nonsense!" He almost couldn't believe what came out of you mouth, almost as if you insulted him. "You're not fat, don't ever think of yourself as that."

"These jeans were okay last week, maybe I shouldn't have eaten so much at the buffet." You continue to ramble. Roy sensed that this was putting a strain on you, he gestures you to stand up.

He carefully removes your jeans in accordance with his instruction and tosses them to the side before gazing up at you with sparkling eyes.

Between those large doe eyes, there were always words, something sacred. A language that only the two of you can understand.

He whispered, "You're beautiful, Y/N," and his hands ran up your thighs. He gave you a second look before kissing your right leg and the other one shortly after.

His lips left a sensation, a feeling that only he could affect.

"I love you." He said with such care, traveling his mouth upwards and trailing them underneath the lining of your underwear. "You're the most breathtaking being I've ever laid my eyes upon."

As he looked up at you with such mercy, you let out a chuckle and placed your hand just on his right cheek. You're lying." 

"When have I ever lied to you?" He puts his hand on top of mine, leaning onto my palm.

"Not even Ryan Reynolds?" You asked, he shook his head and kisses your palm.

"Don't be too cocky, darling." He says, making you lightly nudge him with your foot. He laughs, you laughed with him.

The insignificant things he does make you want to  fall in love with him all over again.

"I'm just kidding. You are beyond anything Ryan Reynolds can match." He slowly rises from the floor, holding the sides of your shirt before lifting them up slightly.

You raised your arms to make access easier, giving his actions your consent. Roy looks you up and down with his mouth slightly agape. "I still can't get over how good you look."

"We've been dating for 6 years, love." With a cheesy smile trying to get on your lips, you reminded.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate you." He shook his head and pulled you in closer, rubbing circles on your hips. He gave you a beaming smile as you felt your noses rub against one another.

His teeth were so perfect, you are always left speechless whenever he does. He'd even have to shake you back to reality at times, you loved his smile that much.

"You're so beautiful." He wanders along your waist's faded stretch marks.

"Stop." You say, feeling your face get hotter from everything he was doing. "You're making me embarrassed."

"You shouldn't be." He responded quickly, giving a peck on my lips before he knelt down lightly to leave kisses on your shoulders.

His hands roamed around your body, softly running his fingers through the soft fabric of your bra. "Your legs, waist, tummy, breasts..."

With that word, you hear your hook clasp open.  "...Is everything a man could ask for." He whispered.

A smirk dancing on your boyfriend's face, you were quick to catch the bra, placing your arms around your chest.

The cold air hits your body, immediately getting replaced by Roy's fleeting touches. He was so gentle, he holds you as if you were a vase.

Not once letting a scratch on you.

"Have I made you nervous?" He asked, his breath hitting you ear causing chills to run over your body. You hesitantly nodded, an amused smile plastered on his face as he places a finger underneath your chin. "We've been dating for 6 years."

He mocks you, blushing at his words he leaves a kiss on your forehead, signaling you to look up at his hazel eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask, your face flustered as you nibble on your lip. He smiles brightly, running his thumb on your bottom lip before getting a hold of both your arms.

He slowly pulled your arms away from your bra and separated them. As it slowly fell off your shoulders, he watched as your fully round breast broke free, causing you to shiver once more.

You looked down, blushing at what he's doing. He kisses his teeth, bringing your face up.

"Look at me." You respond with a nod. He gave your boobs a light squeeze, which made you yell, and you could feel his hand riding up your waist.  "You're so beautiful, I don't know why you're with me," a chuckle left his lips.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing. You're more than enough for me." You assure, he was so good at showing you affection you'd sometimes forget to do it in return. "I should be the one asking why you're still with me. I could barely get through a week without you having to comfort me with something.

He laughs at that, cupping your face and pulling you closer. "You're perfect. Perfect to me." Your breast pressed against his upper stomach, his warmth comforting you.

"You think so?" You asked, ecstatic over his words.

"I believe that we both deserve each other, "He gives your cheek a light squeeze as he pecks at your lips. "However, that does not mean that I will not devote the remainder of my life showing my love for you.'

"When did you become such a romantic?" You asked, letting him lean your foreheads together.

"Since the day I met you, my love." He says, cheekily letting his hands roam around your body. He loved doing that, he loved memorizing you.

He was intimately familiar with each and every mole, stretch mark, and scar you had in your body.

"Have I told you that you looked beautiful today?" He asked, which made you laugh.

"Yes, a number of times." He smiles and kisses your temple.

"I don't tell you enough then."

You were so in love with Roy. Everything about you and him just made sense, like two magnets that were bound to stick together.

He was your rock, your moon and stars. Not a day goes by without him, and he'll be in your life for the rest of it.

"How did I get so lucky?" You breathe out by accident, Roy catching your eyes and kissing you once again.

"How did I get so lucky?" He asked himself as well, leaning down to leave yet another kiss. It's absurd at how silly you get when he kisses you, like you're being lifted 5 feet in the air.

"You're beautiful, Y/N." He says again, for the 6th time today.

And you feel beautiful whenever he looks at you, you really do.

"I love you, Roy." Simplest words yet held so much power, it's what kept you to tied for the longest. "I'm falling in love with you everyday."

"As I am with you." He pulls away, walking towards the bathroom and exiting not long after. He walks towards his side of the closet, grabbing a pair of joggers and a shirt. "Here. Wear this."

He settles them on the foot of the bed, holding my hand as he lead us outside of the bathroom.

"I love wearing your clothes." You admit. "They make me feel like you're hugging me all the time."

"Don't I already do that?" Roy asked, raising his brows as he took a tanktop from his dresser, putting them on and pulling you closer to him.

It's hard to keep the two of you separate, you learned that the hard way. "I meant when you're out on tour, I use to sleep in our closet just to smell you."

"I must make up for lost time then." He pecks your lips before pulling away and grabbing your jeans. "I ran you a bath, keep yourself relaxed and I'll be right there to join you."

Looking through the slightly crooked door, your heart warmed at the lit candles and rose petals floating just above the water.

"Thank you." You tiptoed to kiss him passionately on the lips, which he gladly reciprocated. Sensing that we were getting lost on track he pulled away.

"As much as I'd love to do that right now, you need to relax." He says, looking towards the bathroom.

"Why don't you come with me?" Your arms were wrapped around his neck.

"I will, but I'm gonna need you to just sit there and look pretty, mkay?" He points at the tub "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to fix these first please." He raised your jeans, giving you one last peck before leaving.

A smile was on your face as he exits the bedroom and wandered off to his office, the same place where he sews his dresses and clothes.

"I love you!" He yelled. A laugh escaping your lips as you got in the tub.

You really were the luckiest woman alive.

[artificialqueens]

Goodnight, Bitch 💖 (Bianca Del Rio x Reader) - Jinkx-Monswoon

Summary: Whether you like it or not, you're going to bed, and Bianca will make sure of that.

A/N: hiii i hope u guys enjoy my fluffy lil bianca x reader!! there's simply not enough of it on the internet and in my opinion that requires immediate action!!! >:O /lh

"For the love of God, Y/N—"

"Bianca, c'monnn! I just need this all-nighter, okay?"

"No, what you need is some fucking sleep," Bianca says, lowering the lid of your laptop. Stubborn as you are, you keep your hands on the keyboard, preventing her from closing it.

Bianca folds her arms and stares you down in your chair. You can see the words 'Really, bitch?' written all over her face. Not willing to concede, you stare right back.

"Look at yourself," says Bianca. "It's half past 2 in the goddamn morning, and I come home from a show to see you hunched over your computer with more spreadsheets open on Excel than tabs of porn on an incognito mode session."

She's not wrong, but you're not going to admit that.

Keep reading on AO3

[jinkx-monswoon]

goodnight, bitch 💖 — Bianca Del Rio x Reader

here it is!! and to quote the author's note on the page: if y'all make fun of me for this i will Cry 😎😎😎

[embeehatesbee]

Nothing could have prepared me for this. (BIANCA DEL RIO X READER/ROY HAYLOCK X READER)

This is purely fan fiction! I respect Bianca/Roy with all my heart and support him with every fiber of my being. I wrote this after his season and I fell in love with him immediately, a little fantasy with the queen behind the shade.

2.8K words, not proof read. So when you see a mistake, feel free to correct me.

WARNINGS: a sad attempt with angst and shitty writing.

Nothing could have ever prepared me for this.

I never knew I would be this attracted to one person; let alone a drag queen in their late 30s. But here I was sitting in one of Bianca's many gigs.

She was far more busy now. Everything she had been working hard for the past decade was finally answered, although it did meant she had a tighter schedule.

Like it wasn't already tight before.

But it didn't matter, whether she'd be at New Orleans or New York, I was her home.

Every evening seemed to go the same.

Men in front tried to catch her attention, flirt with her and sometimes she'd flirt back. I won't lie that made my insides churn and that a sudden urge to stab someone were strong at those times, but I knew it was her job.

She'll be cheered on by her fans and she'd insult them one by one. It was fun watching her, like insults just come naturally on her mind.

Little did they know how sweet she could be behind the curtains. Once the facade fades and Bianca was just Roy.

Roy was soft, he loved staying in and eating KFC, watching reruns of Judge Judy in the small of my apartment.

He was a drag queen but a couch potato at heart, we would laze around my couch during his day offs, read a book or take a nap.

Even if he flirted with a million men, I've always kept myself sane. Knowing well that in the end of the day, it was our apartment he'd come home to everyday.

We don't interact when he's in drag. I adored him when he was Bianca, she was gorgeous in every way. Flawless and breathtaking.

He made sure to make my presence known though. He'd scan the room, concentrated until his eyes would land on me, he'd give me a smile. That dimpled smile I've grown to fall in love with.

Every after his show, when people weren't swarming around him and giving him their numbers, we'd walk hand in hand to his Buick.

For a queen, he always wanted things simple.

"I always think of you as my kindred spirit." He said, we were on our couch, his hands intertwined with mine as he fiddles with my fingers. "You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for."

He always knew how to make my heart full and break in just a second. What's worse was that it wasn't even his fault.

He was gay, he made that clear since our first interaction when I thought he was hitting on me.

"You're the love of my life." He says, chuckling. "Don't tell anyone I told you that, I'd die if they think I had a soft side."

I let out a snicker, keeping his words at mind. It was always platonic when it came to him, he could say the most romantic words and somehow made me feel in the friendzone.

"No one would ever believe me." I say, giggling against his chest. Hearing the thump of his heartbeat against my ear.

"They would never." He confirmed, looking down to connect our eyes. His brown doe eyes, his eyelashes, his dimples, everything about him was captivating. "But you do, right?"

I do. I do believe him when he says those sweet words, although not in the way I hoped for.

What I had always hoped for.

"Of course." I smile, our face were so close you would think we were about to kiss. I look down on his lips, letting out a sigh before speaking.

"You are the love of my life."

I don't know what happened next but his eyes froze, looking at me like he had seen a ghost. His smile turned to a frown, standing up and pushing me aside.

He struggles to pick up Bianca's things on the floor, her wig, her dress, everything.

Flabbergasted and confused, I lean over the couch, looking at him with a confused stare. "What are you doing?"

"I need to go." He says, not even batting an eye at my direction.

Still confused, I stood up. Leaning to help him pick up her things, thinking that he probably forgot to turn off the stove at his apartment.

"Are you okay? Let me come with you." I say, concerned at his sudden uneasiness.

"No, stay here." He said, his voice was different, shaken up.

I tried to piece one and one together, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. I eye him down, watching him pack like he was being chased.

"Okay, Roy. Stop." I walk up to him, grabbing the makeup box on his hand. "What the hell is going on?" I bit.

"Please, Y/N. You know damn well what is going on." He spat back, trying to grab the box off me, in which I pulled back further.

He was taller than me, so it's no question he was towering over me. Looking down at me with faint glitters on his face, his doe eyes were now drenched with tears that refused to slip his eyelids.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I crunch my brows, looking up at him as I feel his breath hitting my face.

"How long?" He asked.

"How long what? Can you just cut the bullshit and tell me what the hell is going on?" Frustration was growing in me.

We've had arguments. A handful of them in the past, mostly regarding who lost whose keys, or who was going to pick up the groceries.

This one was different, it was serious. Then fear crept up to me, the fear of losing him.

He scoffs, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. With a sigh, he laid his palms flat on the counter separating the two of us.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N." He spoke, low enough for me to hear. "How long?"

I searched his eyes, getting an idea on what he was referring to.

He wouldn't know, does he? He couldn't.

I've been hiding it for years, there's no way he was figuring it out now. That would be absurd.

With a gulp, I shook my head. "I have no idea what you're talking about." I paused.

With his tongue poking his cheek, he furrowed his brows and lets out a chuckle. He wasn't amused, nor did he think this was funny.

Actually! He does. He was laughing at himself for not seeing it sooner, no one could ever look at a friend the way his best friend would looked at him.

"I can't believe I didn't see this sooner." He spoke to himself, placing a hand on his forehead as he began pacing in our kitchen.

My eyes followed him carefully, cautiously waiting for his next outburst.

"It's not like we did anything for this to brew up the way it did." I shut my eyes, knowing where this was leading to.

"2 years." I whisper, so quiet that I hoped he didn't hear it. I knew he heard me, from the way he was staring blankly in the corner, refusing to meet my gaze.

He was quiet, the atmosphere was still. It was so tensed, I wanted to rip right through it and vanish.

"I love you, Roy." I broke the silence, almost like a prayer. "So much that I kept it for 2 years. And I will continue doing so, even if it means keeping it for another two."

"I don't know where we go from here, Y/N." He lets out, defeated.

"I don't care if you feel the same, I knew what I was getting into from the day we met." I leaned over the counter, trying to reach for his hands. He looked down hesitantly before attaching his long fingers with mine. "You don't have to acknowledge it, hell you don't even have to love me, just stay."

He shook his head. "It's not that easy."

"What do you mean?" I let out a cry, laughing while at it. "We can just go on like nothing ever happened."

"Something did happen, Y/N. For 2 years, without my knowledge." He lets go of my hands. "It may be easy for you to process but this is way too much for me. I cannot give you what you want me to give you."

"I'm not asking you to give me anything." I defend. "It's not like I'm asking you to love me back."

Coming out of my mouth, I knew that was a lie. I could get on my knees, beg for him to love me, but I will not risk it. Not ever.

"That's not how it works." His short responses was sending me in orbit.

"This doesn't have to work into anything. I love you, big deal!" My hands were in the air, waving around like some crazy person.

I walk around the counter, facing him once again as he looks down at me with his prying eyes.

"I don't need you to love me back." As soon as those words came out, it broke me. He doesn't have to love me back, right?

He frowns, cupping my face on his soft hands. "You're hurting."

"It'll pass." I say, watching him wipe the singular tear that fell on my cheek.

He shook his head then walks out to the living room again, grabbing his suitcase from his trip, along with Bianca's things that he had used tonight.

I looked at him, my heart breaking piece by piece with every step he made. He grabbed his makeup box from me, which I refused to let go of.

He shuts his eyes, letting me lean onto his chest one last time. Dropping his suitcase to engulf me in a hug, it was obvious that both our tears had now fallen.

"I love you." I spoke, desperately holding onto what's left in this relationship. If there was still something in this relationship.

"I love you too." He says, which only made my chest hurt more. He didn't mean it the way I wanted it to. "Let me go, Y/N."

Gripping onto his shirt tighter, I refused to do as he says. "Don't go."

"I—We need space." He chokes.

"We don't." Stubbornly, I stood my ground.

"I don't want to hurt you." He says, pushing me lightly. This was hurting just as much as it was hurting me.

"Please." I begged, looking up at him. His tears falling on the side of his cheeks and onto mine, his fingers immediately caught my tears and wiped them off. "Please."

"You're making this difficult." He began pushing me harder. After some time fighting, he had managed to push me off him.

I stood there like a hot mess. Watching Roy walk towards the door, he turns to look at me.

If my heart wasn't as broken as it is now, the sight of his eyeliner slightly smudged by his tears would have shot me down in a second.

"Are we okay?" I asked, one last time.

He smiled, trying his very best not to break down with me. "We will be."

And with a click of the door, the possibility of losing my best friend and the person that I loved that night broke me.

-

I didn't hear from him till the next weekend, he had been busy with his shows and even when he wasn't even needed, he found something to make him busy. He didn't tell me where he stayed for the past week, a part of me didn't want to know as well.

I knew Roy, he had a handful of hookups over the years. He promised to stop before his tour started and I was just worried maybe he was back to hooking up, not that it was my place to worry.

"You look like you're dying, sweetheart." He spoke, he was performing in one our regular bars. I looked at him at awe, I always loved it when she was in drag. He was beautiful, Bianca was beautiful.

"I've had better days." I respond, once he was in drag, he wasn't Roy. She was Bianca.

Bianca Del Rio, the comedic drag queen from New Orleans. 

"I'm sure you have." She says with a dimpled smile, looking towards the bartender and hollering at him. "Order whatever you want, I'll be back with you honey." 

Roy was in character, something he had to deal with in show business. Deep down I knew, he was still upset. I look at him, his eyes were unsure, confused, and scared. I did that to him.

Cutting our stare, he went back into character in a snap. I always wondered how he managed to do that, one of the many things that fascinates me about him. Bianca was the alter ego he always wanted to be, that he had slowly grown into becoming.

I loved that about him, seeing him confident with himself, everyone loving him for him. The love that I know not even I can give, and the thought that I could possibly rip that off him pained me. I didn't want to hurt him, it wasn't my fault I fell in love with him, right?

I watched him with pride and joy, his glow was blinding when he was Bianca. In all honesty, he glowed when he was just Roy, just as much as he glowed as Bianca. 

Then a sudden click entered my mind, like I had been snapped back to reality. There was no way I fitted in his life, not in the way I wanted to and thought I did, we were different. 

I couldn't live another two years hiding away, dodging his prying eyes and gawking at him from afar. I know I couldn't. I wasn't gonna let him deal with that as well.

"That's not how it works." I whispered, his words echoing on the back of my mind. And with a tear, I left a 10 dollar tip on the bottom of my glass.

Nothing could have prepared me for this.

Leaving the person that taught me how it really means to fall in love with someone, to fall in love with someone so much that you'd sacrifice your own happiness for their own. It was better this way, I think.

And with one final glance, I looked at her. Her eyes were already on mine, with a frown on his face, breaking into character immediately.

He knew me well enough to know what I was thinking.

"I love you." I mouthed before leaving his life forever.

Or was I?

As I hail for a taxi, I felt soft hands wrapping around my arm. Bianca towered over me, as Roy usually does, looking down at me with tears on her eyes. "You were going to leave?" 

"I can't keep hurting you." I whispered from under my breath, the cold November air hitting our skin. 

"I don't care if you are. It took me so long to realize how much you actually meant to me, I knew something was different about you." She spoke, letting his tears fall along with his eyeliner. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I shouldn't have left you."

I shook my head, knowing damn well he didn't think this through. "Please be careful with what you say next."

He bit the inside of his cheek, looking around him as we were surrounded with the people from the pub. Watching as their favorite comedic drag queen show mercy upon me. A stupid young writer in NYC.

"I know you think I didn't think this through, but I did." He spoke. "I want to be with you, Y/N."

Simple words yet it held so much power over me, words that I've desperately wanted to hear for years. "Roy. . ."

"Before you say anything, I want you to make sure. We are going to face something and not a lot of people will accept us, this will be difficult Y/N." He pulled me closer. "I want to make sure you want to be with me, all of me."

"I was sure from the moment I saw you performing at that beatdown pub in New Orleans." I spoke, not bothering the dozen of people gawking at us. "You shined so much, I fell in love with Bianca the moment I saw her, as for Roy. . . I fell even harder. I got to know the two of you for 2 years, I fell in love with all of you in between. I'm sure, I know damn well I am." I say, letting his hands palm around my face with such care.

A bright smile on his face, a relieved sigh leaving his full red lips. He leaned down to kiss me, finally feeling his lips against mine. It was even better than I had imagined.

"You are the love of my life." He spoke in between the kiss and for the first time, it meant the way I wanted it to mean. A huge wave of butterflies engulfed in my stomach, I pulled him closer and made the kiss deeper.

An applause erupted from the crowd, cheering the two of us on. And once the kiss was over, I carefully wiped the smudges off his lips and chuckled. "I think you have a show to get to."

"Oh shit." He spun around to face the crowd. "Alright, shows over everyone. Get your asses back in the pub." He yelled, his obnoxious voice making the crowd roar in laughter. Slowly as they walked back to the pub, he turned and spun me around.

With a soft peck on my lips he grinned. "I'll see you later sugar."

Nothing could have prepared me for this. 

The love of my life was a drag queen and she sure as hell was a good one.

[jinkx-monswoon]

would you guys still love me if i wrote bianca del rio x reader 😔

[artificialqueens]

Queue

🍯 Talking to Strangers, Chapter 2 (Nick Jonas/Brooke Lynn Hytes) - CrystallDaddy 

🍯 goodnight, bitch 💖 (Bianca Del Rio x Reader) - jinkx-monswoon 

[jinkx-monswoon]

what's a girl gotta do to get some more bianca del rio x reader on this hellsite 💔 /lh

[jinkx-monswoon]

guys would it be cringe if i posted a bianca del rio x reader oneshot at some point tomorrow

[artificialqueens]

i'd like to request a little bit of F/F bianca del rio x reader, fluff + no smut please! prompt is basically a chance encounter w/ bianca that leads to her flirting with and eventually kissing y/n 💖

[artificialqueens]

thank you veronica!! last weekend i read a trixya fantasy AU fic on here ("Sunshine, and Glory Too" by fannyatrollop/violetshade) and i just absolutely adored it 🥺🥺🥺 also i actually DO write!! i guess my current project is a personal rewrite of the only bianca del rio x reader fic on ao3, which is an incomplete kink/smut fic (and i'm unfortunately a sex-repulsed ace who does not derive any pleasure from that </3)

Thanks, doll! Here's a link to 'Sunshine, and Glory Too' for anyone else who wants to check it out: https://artificialqueens.tumblr.com/tagged/sagt/chrono

We also do have ONE Bianca x Reader fic here. I assume it's not the same one: https://artificialqueens.tumblr.com/post/160104069653/41-year-old-drag-queen-bianca-del-rio-x-reader

If I were a nosier sort of person, I might ask why you are writing a fic that gives you no pleasure. But I'm not, and that's none of my business, so I'll just say good luck, my friend! 💖

[artificialqueens]

can you write a Bianca del Rio x reader plsss? I need more of them ahahah

Hi honey! I know people who want x reader fics find this fandom frustrating because there's so few of them. Hopefully someone will see this request and get inspired!

If not...have you considered writing one? Most of us began writing because there was a niche that we wanted more of and couldn't find enough (or ANY) content. 💕

[jinkx-monswoon]

ok i finished the bianca del rio x reader but its so saccharine and self indulgent that im scared to post 😭

[jinkx-monswoon]

who do i have to pay to get more bianca del rio x reader on this site

[artificialqueens]

41 year old drag queen - Bianca Del Rio x Reader - Thequeenofsuicidesquad

An: I saw a request for this and thought that it would be fun to make. On my official tumblr page (thequeenofsuicidesquad) I have a fic series for Bianca Del Rio x reader and a Max x Reader.

(I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible)

Go follow me bitchessss!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Walking with your two friends Dan and Tina you ran towards the drag queen club you were going to. It was raining like hell. “Come y/n.” Tine yelled when you stopped on the sidewalk to let a car pass through before running faster to catch up your friends.

“Have you ever been to a drag show before?” Dan asked when you finally reached the club and went inside to safety from the rain.

“Actually no. I almost went with Sasha once but that was before she moved away.” You said as you rubbed your arms with your hands to warm up.

“So what stopped you?” Tina asked.

“I got sick so I had to cancel.” You explained as you followed Tina and Dan to the bar.

“But didn’t Sasha move away quite a while ago? Why didn’t you just go with someone else?” Dan wondered while Tina ordered all of you some drinks.

“I don’t know… I always wanted to come see a drag show, but I guess I never got to it.” You said as you accepted your sex on the beach drink from Tina.

“Oh well tonight you will get to see a live drag show. And on your birthday that is.” Dan said with a big smile. Rising his drink to the air he said loudly: “To y/n. You finally turned 24!”

“You y/n!” Tina nodded before you all drowned your drinks. “Come let’s go dance!” Tina grabbed your arm and pulled you with her to the dance floor located at the front of the club’s main stage. There were quite a lot of people dancing but some were sitting in the booths or at the bar drinking and talking.

You danced just the three of you and an occasional addition came when someone tried to come hit on you, Tina or Dan. Dan even gave his number to a cute guy that came to flirt with him.

“Call me!” Dan yelled to the guy when he said that he had to go look for his group.

Usually Tina was being hit on the most in clubs. She wore tight and very revealing outfits. She had an amazing body and she wasn’t afraid to show it off. But for some reason unknown to you people were hitting on you more than her.

Your outfit wasn’t nearly as skimpy as hers and she looked like her basic sparkly self so what had changed?

You weren’t interested in finding a boyfriend or… A late night visitor today so when someone would come talk to you or came to dance with you a bit too near you just told them that you weren’t interested.

After like an hour of dancing and sometimes going to the bar to get a drink a woman came to the stage. “Oh y/n it’s starting. Let’s go sit in a booth.” Tina said excitedly.

While the woman did an ‘intro’ of sorts for the first performer people cleared the dance floor going to sit in booths or tables around the bar.

There were five drag queens with different shows. Two sang live, two lip synced and the last one (that Tina thought was the best) was just about to start. She was a comedy queen.

When the last performer was coming up the intro woman from the beginning came back to the stage. “So our next performer is who most of you probably are here and who you came to see. Let’s hear it for our very own insult comedian; Bianca Del Rio!” The woman left exiting the stage clapping while a drag queen walked to the center smiling.

She was beautiful. Orange hair with big dramatic eye makeup, curvy body and big red lips. When she smiled two dimples showed on her cheeks.

“Hi everyone my name Is Bianca Del Rio which you all already know because that bitch stole my line.” She sent a funny glare to the intro woman while people laughed. “I came here today to make you laugh by talking some shit.” Bianca continued before looking around in the audience. “Seems like we have a full audience of nice looking people. And then there’s one asshole in the crowd. You.” She said with a lower voice pointing at another drag queen sitting near the stage, while people roared with laughter (that insulted drag queen included.)

“You can just leave right now.” She continued. “There’s the door.” She said pointing at the emergency exit. “It’s raining like fucking crazy outside I bet most of you just came here today to be safe from the rain and then were horrified when you realized that you entered the gates of hell.” Bianca said.

“Ignore the toad on the stage she’s taken some crystal meth today.” Bianca said when a drag queen climbed on the stage looking for something. “There are no drugs here honey go look from the bathroom.” Bianca said while people screamed with laughter. Finally finding whet she was looking for the drag queen bent down to pick up the earring from the floor giving a full view of her ass to the audience. “Oh Jesus Christ girl don’t do that. You’ll traumatize my audience.” Bianca said to the drag queen who quickly left the stage. “Oh remember that drugs are bad. ^Except cocaine and Vicodin.^” Bianca whispered with a lower voice sending people to another fit of laughter

Next Bianca started to read the audience. “You there. Bald guy that looks like he’s from the stone ages. I didn’t know it was bring your father to the drag club day.” Bianca said as she looked at the young woman next to him.

The man yelled something but Bianca didn’t hear. “What was that? Have you lost your voice like you lost your youth?” Once again people laughed.

The man repeated what he said: “Oh she’s your wife okay.” Bianca said since she heard him this time. “How rich are you? We were all thinking about it. I bet she ‘digs gold’ in his pants and gets diamond earrings as a gift.”

The young woman laughed with the crowd but the man didn’t say anything. “What too much botox to laugh?” Bianca asked. “Talking of botox what the hell happened to you?” Bianca asked from a woman in the front row seat. “You look like the cat lady gave you that Botox job and she was inspired by herself. You’ve been smiling all night. You better pray that no one dies in the near future. Because you are going to come off as extremely rude sitting there with a huge smile. Someone will try to slap that smile off of you.” Taking a little pause Bianca let the crowd laugh again. “That won’t work though. You are gonna need a crowbar to stop smiling.”

Oh and don’t think that I haven’t noticed you. You two probably went to the same plastic surgeon.“ Bianca said to a man across the room that also seemed to have gone too far with botox.

“On that note I can see someone who looks too attractive to use botox.” Bianca said. For a while you didn’t realize that she was talking to you. “Yes I am talking to you.” She said as you pointed at yourself with a questioning look. “I watched you dance when I was backstage. Everyone who hit on you got the boot. I have to say that you are one cold bitch. You are like real life Elsa.” People roared with laughter while you just chuckled. Tina was laughing so hard that she almost fell off the bench. “Freezing hearts and then stomping all over them.” Bianca said.

“I think I saw one of the guys start crying and run away. Did you notice that?” Shaking your head to Bianca she continued: “If I invite you to the stage will you start singing; let it go?”

Shaking your head again you laughed. “How about; ice ice baby?” Still shaking your head Bianca sent you a wink “After the show I’ll come find you okay gorgeous?” Without waiting for a response Bianca continued to the next audience member. “While we are on the baby subject you lady there that has to be the fattest baby I have ever seen. And why would you bring a baby to a drag show. How did you even get the baby in here?”

“Wow Bianca wants to talk to you.” Dan said distracting you from the show.

“Yeah what was that bout?” Tina said. “And she kept complimenting you.”

“I honestly don’t know.” You shook your head amused.

“She’s talking to you.” Dan suddenly said.

“What?” Following Dan’s stare you looked towards the stage. Bianca Del Rio was looking at you with a stare that was waiting for an answer. A microphone was suddenly brought to you “What?” People started laughing at how lost you seemed to be.

“You came here to see the drag show right?” Bianca asked.

“Yes.” Was a simple answer you gave.

“Then gorgeous give me all your attention.” She looked at you with the this is so oblivious look. Suddenly Bianca came off the stage and walked to your booth. Reaching her hand out you took it and let her lead you to the stage.

“What are you doing?” You whispered to Bianca.

“I’m going to make you a part of my show.” She whispered back covering the microphone.

“Okay so. Here we have our victim.” Bianca said before making you sit on a stool next to a man. “Okay so here’s how the game works. I’m going to ask you questions about what ever the fuck I want to and the one who gets most right will win a spa night.”

“So first Willis was it?” Bianca said before looking at the man next to you.

“Umm. What?” The man asked before lifting his head to look at Bianca.

“Do you look at women’s boobs so forwardly all the time?” Bianca asked the guy who flashed red.p while the entire crowd laughed.

Then you saw it. The guys gaze flickered to your boobs before looking back at Bianca. “Umm… No?” The guy said.

“You know what? I’m gonna move gorgeous away from you.” Bianca said before putting the mic away and grabbing onto your chair and pulling you closer to herself and away from this Willis guy. Taking her scarf off Bianca wrapped it around you to cover your entire chest with the crowd laughing again.

“Gorgeous do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?” Bianca asked with a suggestive look while the crowd cheered and whistled.

“Well no.” You awkwardly answered.

“Get her girl!” Someone from the crowd yelled at Bianca while the others cheered.

“Willis do you have an X-ray vision or what because you are still staring even though I covered her up?” Bianca asked but Willis didn’t even seem to notice. “Okay that’s it off the stage Mr peeping Tom Willis.” The crowd cheered as he left the stage.

“Thanks he was kinda creeping me out.” You said which earned you a laugh.

“Yeah he was like a cartoon character. I was afraid that his eyes would turn into hearts or that they would plunge out of his head.” Bianca laughed.

“So next question.” Bianca she went s. interesting… I don’t know the answer myself… I don’t remember writing this…“ One by one Bianca threw a card away for some tiny fault in it. “Let’s just wing it.” She finally said before throwing all the cards away.

“So what are you looking for in a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Bianca asked while wiggling her eyebrows at the audience.

“Well umm… I want someone funny.” You mumbled.

“Check.” Bianca said which made people laugh.

“Someone who shares my interest in comedy films.”

“Check.” She repeated.

“And I guess that good looks wouldn’t hurt but I don’t think of it too much.” You said.

“And check. Obliviously.” Bianca said flapping her long eyelashes and making the crowd laugh again.

“Okay so next I have a challenge for you.” Bianca said before getting off the chair she was sitting in. “Reach towards me with your hand and cover your eyes with the other.” Bianca instructed as you did what she told you. “Put your tongue out.”

‘Whaaat?’ You wondered but did as she told.

Then you felt something on your arm. “Okay open up.” Bianca said. Looking at your arm there were numbers written on it. “That’s my number.” She said. “Save it with the title Louisiana hoe.” Bianca said as the crowd laughed. “Give a hand to gorgeous.” People clapped while you got off the stage and went back to the booth.

“What a weird night.” You said to Tina and Dan.

-Time skip-

The next morning you woke up to a kiss on the shoulder. “Morning.” Came the 41 year old drag queen’s voice from behind you.

“Morning.” You said back at the drag queen before turning in the spooning position so you could look at each other in the eye and share a soft kiss.

The end

Once again go follow my main tumblr account. ❤️ And follow this tumblr page cuz I love it. These writers are amazing!

[artificialqueens]

Is there any chance of getting a Bianca Del Rio x female reader??

There’s no penalty for hoping...

[artificialqueens]

Run My Mouth (Monet x Monique)- Ortega

a/n: i actively refuse to type the word Momo into existence bc i refuse to associate that fucking horrendous face with these cute af idiots. this is my entry to the fic challenge bc someone wanted Monet x Monique and i wanted out of the Branjie emotion pit! this is filling the cliches 3 (enemies to lovers) and 7 (A has a sexy dream about B) and also is of course a lesbian au bc that seems to be the only currency i deal in. it’s also set within the Just The Game We’re In universe if anyone’s interested, and is also probably horrendously ooc. christ i’m good at selling my fics!! credit where credit’s due, the “holy trinity of why” was stolen from The Thick Of It, the song on Monique’s insta story is Own It by Ella Mai, and “panini head” is stolen from Gordon Ramsay. hope u all enjoy!

Summary: Guardian journalist Monet X Change arrives at the Ministry of Defence to run a piece on Shea Coulee. She didn’t expect to be distracted by a bad-tempered band 1 comms girl who seems intent on driving Monet to distraction entirely through sarcastic remarks, tattoos and acrylic nails.  

***

Journalism. What did it all actually mean? When it came down to it, all it was was writing about stuff that happened in the world. All it was was retelling a story. But then nobody ever really seemed to view it that way, Monet thought to herself, as she scuffed one high heel against the rough, sandpaper-like carpet of the lobby and continued to wait.

It was never as simple as just writing, though. Fuck, if that was all journalism was then how many horrific atrocities could have been avoided just through the lack of coverage and platforming alone? There was always an agenda to push despite Monet’s personal feelings on the situation, and she always just had to put up and shut up. For example, today. What Monet really should have been writing about was the Ministry of Defence’s catastrophic overspend, but someone high up in the party (probably Bianca Del Rio, Monet reasoned) had made some sort of deal with Bob to avoid excessive coverage of it. This surprised Monet as, before she’d started working at The Guardian, Bob had been part of Phi Phi O’Hara’s party as their press secretary. Still, even if Monet didn’t know the finer details of how politics worked she knew what a threat or a bribe looked like, so instead of writing about anything juicy or remotely interesting she was here, in the offices of the MOD, waiting on Shea Coulee. Bob had sent Monet out to do some private life piece, some sort of day-in-the-life of a department minister thing that was set to last for a fortnight. Shea would hate it as it meant Monet would be exposed to all sorts of potential party fuck-ups. Monet would hate it because it was a bunch of writing which was of absolutely no consequence. The Guardian’s readers would hate it because it was an article attempting to humanise a politician, and Monet knew people hated those, so there it was. The hat trick of fuck.

She waited dispassionately in the lobby, her heels swinging and scuffing the carpet with every passing second. She didn’t know how long she’d been doing it, or how many times, but there suddenly came a voice from one end of the corridor.

“‘Scuse me, ma'am.”

She didn’t turn around at first. In all honesty, Monet’s ego meant that she thought that anyone in the building would be addressing her by her last name, with a Ms. in front of it. So she kept swinging and scuffing.

The sound of heels came down the corridor. “Ma'am!”

Monet whipped her head around, slightly startled at the louder sound. She was met with a girl- early twenties, she would guess, in a smart black pencil skirt and suit jacket combination with a bright white shirt underneath. Her black hair was pinned up in a neat bun with a few strands helping her fringe frame her face, which was currently set into a scowl. Monet initially thought the girl was there to take her to Shea, however seeing the tray of coffees she was carrying made her second-guess. She frowned up at her from her position on the small sofa-lounger-thing she had been perched on. Monet’s back was already up and she hadn’t even said two words to her.

“Yes?”

The girl’s scowl deepened. “Are you aware that this is a ministerial department?”

Monet bit back a laugh. “Yes.”

“So you know that if you’re waiting here, you can’t sit and wear the carpet out like a pacing bear in a zoo, correct?” a smile finally came over the girl’s face, albeit a fake one. Monet briefly noted her eye makeup- bright and extravagant, a bit much for a day at work but still pretty and expertly applied. She decided to return the fake smile.

“Well thank you so much for that advice! I’m always really keen for pointers on office decorum by girls that look like their makeup was done by a blind toddler playing with dried up poster paints. Now,” Monet sighed lazily, pleased at the way the girl’s jaw had visibly dropped. “can you please make yourself useful and find me somebody that works for Shea Coulee? Because I’ve been waiting here a while.”

The other girl’s face was stony as she addressed her. “I work for Shea Coulee.”

Monet’s heart bunjee-jumped into the pit of her stomach. Shit. Okay, fuck, she didn’t need to panic. She was still holding the coffee tray, so that clearly didn’t indicate a senior position. The other girl’s face was set into a shit-eating smile, clearly happy to have scared her. This only served to rile Monet further. “Well, could you please check that she’s ready to see me? I’m Monet Change, I’m from The Guardian. I’m doing a piece with Ms. Coulee.”

The other girl narrowed her eyes in distaste. Monet noticed that they were deep brown, making them seem huge. “You got an ID?”

Monet rolled her eyes. Briefly, she cast an eye to the girl’s hand. “Are the office coffees not getting cold, tea girl?”

The girl looked briefly as if she’d been slapped in the face. Monet snorted. This was fun. She watched as the girl looked nervously down the corridor, then at the drinks in her hand. Monet almost felt sorry for her, until the girl frowned at her again.

“We’re living under a severe and constant terror threat, Ms. Change, and precautions are precautions,” she pouted, her face like vinegar. She held her hand out and Monet cast an eye over a set of neon green acrylic nails. With a small jump to her heart, she noticed that the nails on her index and middle finger were cut shorter than the others. She looked up at the girl and caught her eye. Another fake smile came her way. “ID.”

“Well how should I know you even work for Shea Coulee? Where’s your ID?” Monet answered back, taking far too much delight in the way the other girl pouted before taking her free hand and sticking her middle finger up in Monet’s face.

“There’s my ID, bitch! Do you want me to go get Ms. Coulee or not?”

“Monique, what the hell are you doing?” came a sudden voice from up the corridor, making the girl jump. A little splash of coffee jumped out from under the lid and landed on her wrist, and Monet didn’t miss the way she hissed a little through her teeth. She felt bad. Turning her eyes up the corridor, Monet saw who the voice was coming from- real and in-person Shea Coulee, with her neat dreads cascading down her shoulders and back and over her red shift dress. She radiated power, and Monet felt suddenly intimidated. The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Shea simply raised a hand and gave a light shake of her head. “I think you’d better get back to the office, don’t you? I don’t think any of us ordered an iced latte.”

The girl nodded sharply and walked briskly down the corridor, but not before she gave one final look to Monet that was mixed with anger, annoyance, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.  

“Ms. Change, isn’t it?” Shea turned back to Monet and held out her hand, smiling as she took it to shake. “Pleased to meet you, I’m excited to be working with you. I have to apologise for Monique’s behaviour, she’s a complete hothead and she shouldn’t even have been interacting with you.”

Monique. It was a nice name.

Monet picked up her bag as Shea began walking down the corridor, quickening her pace to follow her which was tricky in her heels. “So uh, she’s not one of your advisors?”

Shea snorted a laugh. “Please. She’s a junior civil servant. You’ll meet my advisors, they’re just in the office.”

Monet thought for a moment. “So I don’t really need to interact with Monique at all during my time here then?”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. You’re not going to be in with the little people,” Shea dismissed her with a wave of her hand as she walked into the bright and airy office space.

Good. It was good that she wasn’t going to be seeing Monique. Following Shea through to her office, Monet’s eyes scanned the room and somehow came to rest on Monique’s brown ones. Monique blinked once in surprise, then gave Monet a nasty look.

She was a total bitch, anyway.

***

Day five, and the end of week one. Monet would be lying if she said the whole thing was as boring as she’d thought it would be. Sure, the actual writing itself was boring. It turned out that a private life piece on Shea Coulee at work unsurprisingly consisted of Shea Coulee doing lots of work. Monet had met her advisors, Asia and Vixen, and they were nice enough girls but they were there to work too. So in lieu of anything interesting to do, Monet had had to invent her own fun.

Which consisted of annoying Monique.

It hadn’t started out like that, Monet always defended herself internally. She’d tried to make amends with her on the first day- stopped by her desk on the way out and asked her how her wrist was, but all she was met with was a wordless sneer. The next day, Monet had made a point of saying good morning to her, again met with no reply. She’d then complimented her hair when she came to Shea’s office to ask about a press release, but the only reply Monet got was a flip of it. So after that, the gloves were off. Monique had had three strikes, and now the bitch was out.

Monet could have just ignored Monique. That would have been the mature thing to do. But something about the girl had got under her skin and niggled away at her, like an annoying splinter. Plus Monet was competitive, and there was a need to get even.

On Tuesday, Monet got teas and coffees for the whole comms team apart from Monique. She didn’t miss the widening of Monique’s eyes then the disappointed pout that followed when she realised there was nothing for her. It made Monet’s skin prickle in satisfaction.

On Wednesday, Monet came into the department and walked up to Monique’s desk. She made sure Monique had locked eyes with her, made to smile at her, then fixed her eyes very pointedly on her cheek and frowned deeply, feigning concern as she walked away. She cast a glance at Monique over her shoulder as she walked away, who was furiously checking her reflection in her phone screen.

Yesterday, they had both been in the kitchen together. Monet had been grabbing a fork for her lunch when Monique had walked in, her eyes darkening upon seeing Monet. Monet felt a slight curl in her stomach when the other girl brushed past her and reached for a teabag, a rich, woody scent clinging to her like the black dress she was wearing.

“Morning, Monique,” Monet smiled, leaning against the countertop and smiling. “Hey, how are Cerberus and Hades this morning?”

Monique cast her a glare. She spoke after a beat of silence. “I don’t follow.”

“Guardians of the underworld?” Monet elaborated, receiving a tight smile in return.

“Oh, cute. Contemporary reference,” Monique bit back, reaching up to take a mug from a cupboard. “Should you not be, you know. Writing? Like an actual journalist? Are you an actual journalist or just a child pretending to be a journalist?”

“As opposed to you, who’s a child pretending to be…an adult?” Monet blinked, delighting in the way Monique visibly tensed up.

“Jesus, I can’t wait til you leave,” she muttered, Monet able to hear the eye roll in her voice. She gave a chuckle.

“Well get used to me, princess, because I’m here til next Friday,” Monet beamed at Monique as she turned around, her gaze frosty and making Monet shiver a little.

“I’m not your princess,” she said, her voice low and dark and giving Monet a small heart palpitation. With a sudden flashback to their Monday meeting, Monet remembered the nails on Monique’s right hand. A shiver ran down her spine.

“No, you’re right,” Monet said, dropping the pitch of her voice to match Monique’s. She took a step forward, closing the space between them. “You’re a little brat.”

Monique’s eyes bored into hers. There seemed to be something hanging in the air. After what could have been seconds or minutes, Monique scrunched up her face and spun around on her heel, leaving Monet on her own in the kitchen.

Monet had gone home and replayed their little confrontation in her head on repeat. It especially taunted her just before she was about to fall asleep, when she was lying in bed in the darkness with a dull throb between her legs that she tried her best to ignore. Monique was attractive, that was just a fact. She had a beautiful face and a little tiny waist and the most amazing legs, and when she wore short sleeved tops Monet could see the tattoos that went all the way up her arms, and she’d always been into tattoos. But Monique was also a total dick. So why was that so hot to her?

Monet found herself turning over in bed, switching the light on, grabbing her phone and typing xvideos into her search bar.

The next day everything seemed to be even more charged between the two girls, although that could have been Monet’s imagination. From the moment she walked into the department she had felt Monique’s eyes on her like a trained sniper, a blush hitting her cheeks that stayed there for most of the morning to the extent that Shea had asked her if she was feeling alright. Monet could hardly concentrate on the departmental she was sat in and was glad of the recorder she’d utilised to catch the meeting, because the only thought that seemed to run through her head was how do I get her alone again?

It turned out she didn’t have to wait very long. Monet was taking a phone call from Bob and she’d ducked into one of the small stationary cupboards to talk to her when Monique came in halfway through, her face curling up when she saw her. Monet’s heart gave a leap and, finding an excuse to finish the phone call earlier than needed, she pocketed her phone and turned to the other girl.

“Looking for some relevance?” Monet asked as she watched Monique bend down and open a cardboard box. The other girl narrowed her eyes at her as she stood up.

“Leave me alone, Monet. I’m serious,” she snapped, Monet crossing her legs together where she stood. Fuck, she could be bossed about like this all day.

“Oh, we on first name terms now? I’m a guest in your department, you should be addressing me properly,” Monet folded her arms and leaned back against the shelves behind her. Monique snorted and quirked a smile.

“Of course, Ma'am. I’m so sorry! Would you prefer Bitch, or Ms. Bitch?” she smiled sweetly. Monet couldn’t help but run her tongue over her bottom lip and then bite it softly, and she didn’t miss the way Monique’s eyes darted to it or the way her stare faltered.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be throwing around that word so casually, Monique, especially since I’m working with your boss.”

“Why are you doing this?!”

Monet exhaled. “Because I’m bored, it’s funny, and I hate you. There you go. The holy trinity of why.”

Then Monet got a shock as Monique suddenly took a step towards her, closing the gap between them in the already tiny cupboard, and if Monet leaned forward she would be able to feel Monique’s body against hers. Her eyes were dark as she scowled at her. “You think you can just walk into this department with your perfect hair and your perfect outfits and your perfect body and just talk shit to everyone after a week?”

Monet held back a gasp as Monique’s expression faltered, almost as if she’d given something away that she shouldn’t have. Her heart gave a jump. She’d really just said all that? Monet touched her caramel curls self-consciously. She looked at Monique from under her lashes. “I don’t talk shit to everyone, just you.”

Monique’s harsh stare was back. “Well you better stop.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll do something I regret,” Monique hissed. Monet blinked. It was so hard to read the situation. She couldn’t tell if Monique was genuinely threatening her, but she seemed to have got closer because Monet could feel the heat of her body just millimetres away from her own. She swallowed thickly. Just then she noticed Monique’s eyes dart quickly from her eyes to her lips and back up again. It made her decision for her.

“Dare you, princess.”

Quicker than Monet could blink, Monique had suddenly closed the minute gap between them, pressed her body up against Monet’s own, and was kissing her with more passion than she’d ever been kissed with before in her life. It was as if Monique’s lips were made of fire, and Monet moaned as she felt her hands tear roughly through her hair. Monet was so stunned that she was almost unable to kiss back, until she felt Monique suck gently on her tongue and lust flood through her whole body. Monet brought her hands, which had been resting on Monique’s waist, up to cup her jaw. Monique noticed the movement and Monet’s heart thudded quickly as she felt Monique take one of her hands in hers, lace their fingers together, and move it from her face down to-

“Monique! You still in there? I found a bunch of staples in the top drawer of- oh,” came a voice- one of the other comms girls, Monet recognised. With a speed that she didn’t think it was possible to move at, she leapt back from the other girl and thanked God that the comms girl on the other side of the door’s entry to the cupboard had been stopped by a huge box full of spiral-bound notebooks that Monique had moved to get better access to what she was looking for.

Monique ran her tongue over her lips and cast her eyes to the floor as she spoke. “Oh, thanks Vanessa! I’ll be out in two seconds, just need a couple more things.”

Monet hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until she released it when she heard the girl walking away down the corridor. Keeping her face neutral, she looked at Monique whose cheeks were dark pink and her eyes embarrassed.

“I should, uh,” Monet began, moving to the door in an effort to ease the awkward tension that had been created.

“Yeah, sure,” Monique nodded furiously, rubbing her forehead with one hand and averting her gaze. Without a second glance, Monet was out the cupboard and walking briskly up the corridor and back onto the meeting room she’d left when she originally took the phone call. Sitting back down in her seat, she was pleased that Shea was already talking so that nobody needed to acknowledge her arrival.

Just when she thought she was off the hook, Asia turned to her and murmured. “Girl, where the fuck did you take that phone call? A hedge?”

She declined to reply.

***

Monet walked into the department on Monday with a cocktail mixer of excitement, nerves, trepidation and readiness being shaken up in her stomach. Her mind had been a complete mess all throughout the rest of Friday, and Monique seemed to have been good at avoiding her because she hadn’t seen her at all for the rest of the day. So Monet had gone home at the end of the day with her head in a spin, her hair still a complete mess, and a burning need to be absolutely railed. She wasn’t able to stop herself from scrolling instagram when she was alone in her flat with a glass of wine, and her fingers were typing in Monique’s full name (which hung on the nametag around her neck each day) before she could stop herself. She found her instantly, and a guilty feeling built in Monet’s stomach as she found herself looking through the girl’s page, gorgeous selfie after gorgeous selfie making her stomach flip over and her palms grow hot. Suddenly, she saw the circle around Monique’s profile picture turn pink. Her thumb hovered over it, unsure if she wanted to graduate to full-blown instagram stalker creep status. Well, she’d come this far.

A mirror selfie of Monique filled the screen, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and out of the ponytail it had been in earlier. She was smiling, and Monet found herself wishing she had that smile directed at her more often. With a pang she noticed that the wine in Monique’s glass was red, matching the crimson liquid in her own glass. As if she was afraid of being caught, Monet tapped off the story and buried her phone underneath one of her couch cushions.  

On Saturday, Monet met with her friend Bri for coffee, which was probably a good thing as it would serve to distract Monet from the dream she’d had last night of Monique, perched up on her desk in a black lace bodysuit and high heels talking in extremely explicit detail about what she wanted Monet to do to her. Meeting with Bri would stop her from lying in bed in her own filth masturbating herself into oblivion and obsessively checking Monique’s instagram like a complete loser. On the other hand, all Bri seemed to want to talk about was some French politician she’d slept with whilst she was over there as a correspondent for the BBC during the European Parliamentary elections, and it wasn’t really helping.

“…and like, I’d never really been one for strapons before- because, hello, big dicks usually aren’t really the selling point of lesbianism- but Jesus Christ, Monet, I swear I saw God. In fact, I fucked God. God was her. Hey, panini head, are you even listening to me?”

Monet blinked twice as she tuned back into the conversation. Her friend was staring at her intently, her blonde hair slightly all over the place with how animatedly she’d been telling the story. Not too far away from their table a family of four looked on, horrified.

“Oh my God, Cracker, it’s ten in the morning,” Monet rolled her eyes, utilising the nickname she sometimes hit out with for her friend (“Because I’m thin, white and salty?” “No, because it doesn’t take much for you to snap.“).

“So?! You can’t put a time limit on fucking a hot girl.”

“No, but you can put a volume limit,” Monet raised her eyebrows, as a Dad with a pram walked into the cafe. Bri rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, would you stop being such a prude? You need to get laid,” she sighed, then narrowed her eyes as she saw Monet shift in her seat and cross her legs, the memory of her stationary cupboard encounter flooding back into her head like a tsunami. “Unless you already have…? Monet?”

Monet took a sip of her coffee. She put it back on the saucer and tried to ignore Bri’s piercing eyes. “What?”

Bri jumped back in her seat and almost knocked a tray of tea out of the hands of a woman passing behind her. “Oh my God. You’re not telling me something. Tell me. Tell me now, or I go into more detail about my night with Aquaria Palandrani at double the volume I was using before.”

“How can it get more detailed?!” Monet cried in dismay, then frowned. “Whatever, I don’t want to know. Ugh, there’s nothing to tell, honestly.”

Bri leaned forward in her seat expectantly. Monet rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look, it’s honestly nothing! It’s just this girl-”

“A-HA! That’s not nothing! That’s a girl!” Bri gasped, excited. “More details, please.”

“You know I’m doing that piece on Shea Coulee for Bob? She works for her department, she’s a comms girl. We didn’t really see eye to eye at first…I mean, I guess we still don’t. But she’s fucking beautiful, and her attitude’s just really hot, you know? Even though it’s meant to make me not like her.”

“Ooh, hate fucking,” Bri gave her eyebrows a little wiggle, causing Monet to slap her on the arm.

“Shut up! I’m trying to get her to like me first.”

“Don’t. Hate fucking’s the best. Did I ever tell you about-”

Monet tuned out again, her mind now occupied by Monique now that she’d been talking about her. She wondered how she would play things on Monday, and how Monique would approach things with her. Even though she would be happy if Monique had had a personality transplant towards her, there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but long for one of her sarcastic clapbacks that drove her absolutely insane.

That night as she tried to write up things for her article, Monet couldn’t help but feel her phone in her jean pocket like an itch she had to scratch. Giving in, she opened up instagram and made her way to Monique’s page again, top in her search history. She saw a new post on her story and her heart gave a thud. Tapping, she was admittedly disappointed to see a song’s cover art pop up on the screen. She was about to tap off again when two emojis caught her eye, with a completely undeniable double entendre- tongue and squirt. The small clip of the song rang out in Monet’s living room before she could even adjust her volume.

“I put the na-na in naughty

Begging for it, got you on your knees

Didn’t make it to the bedroom, but we can do it there too

Whatever’s your fa-”  

“Oh my God, fuck off,” Monet yelped involuntarily, throwing her phone out of her hands so that it landed on the sofa cushion beside her. She didn’t know how the hell to interpret that, or if it was even about her, but all she knew was that she was more confused than ever.

***

Monet took a deep breath before she stepped into the offices on Monday morning, straightening her spine and walking in confidently, despite the fact she felt as if her legs were made of jelly. On her way into Shea’s office she passed by the desk that hadn’t been far from her mind all weekend (footage from her dream flashing through her head as she walked past) and out came the simple phrase that she’d rehearsed saying for hours.

“Good morning, Monique,” she said quickly, catching the other girl’s surprised eyes before sweeping past her desk and going straight into the Minister’s room, not giving the other girl a single chance to respond. Her heart beat rapidly all morning as she sat through meeting after meeting, a small triumphant smile on her face.

At quarter past twelve, Monet made her way to the elevators, ready to head out to grab some lunch. She cast her glance to Monique’s desk hopefully, only to find it empty. Her disappointment was short-lived, however, when she walked into the lift and heard the click-clack of high heels running to catch the it before it left. Monet pressed the button to hold it and her stomach flipped over when Monique, wearing a black, calf-length bodycon dress, ran into the lift beside her. She shot Monet a quick glance, then looked up to the ceiling and avoided her gaze. The lift doors closed and it began its journey down the many, many floors towards the lobby.

“Thanks,” Monique said, after a few beats of silence. Monet cleared her throat.

“No worries.”

There was another pause. Monet couldn’t tell where it was going, if anywhere, and the awkward atmosphere built. She tossed some of her honey curls out of the collar of her shirt and rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed.

“So, uh,” Monique spoke up, inspecting her nails. “You have a nice weekend checking up on me?”

Monet felt as if someone had poured a freezing cold bucket of water over her head. She wished she could control the horror that was almost definitely slapped across her face. “What?!”

Monique gave a small smile. “It’s okay, Monet, I know I look good. The least you could’ve done is shoot me a follow, you know?”

Monet wanted the bottom of the elevator to drop off so she could fall directly down the lift shaft.

“I wasn’t…oh my God,” she trailed off, realising there was no way she could explain her way out of this one. She placed both her hands on her face, covering her eyes. “How did you-”

“You know it tells you who views your stories, right?” Monique’s voice came, a slight laugh to it that served to make Monet feel both more and less embarrassed. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”

Monet couldn’t muster a reply. She didn’t even think she could take her hands off her eyes.

“I mean, I gotta admit. I had a lil’ sneak on yours too,” the other girl said quietly, causing Monet to finally take her hands off her eyes and look at Monique who was leaning lazily against the bar on the lift. “You look like a snack when you’re not in those work clothes, girl.”

Ohhh, shit.

Monet tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Monique. The conversation was finally going down the route she wanted, and she found herself squeezing her thighs together in anticipation. “I don’t know, baby, you seemed pretty keen on me when I was in them too.”

She watched as Monique laughed, looked up at the ceiling again, and shook her head. “That was a necessary step I had to take to stop you running your fuckin’ mouth, and it worked.”

Monet tilted her head as Monique finally made eye contact with her. She bit her lip and shrugged. “Can’t have worked that well, ‘cause I’m still talking.”

Monique smiled smugly, taking a single step towards her. “And what?”

Monet blinked, taken aback. “Well. Maybe you need to shut me up again.”

Monique twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. “Is this a big, powerful, high-up Guardian journalist begging a Band 1 Civil Servant to make out with her in an elevator?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Monet laughed, feeling the heat between her legs build up as Monique came to a stop beside her, deliberately standing a little too close. “You’re a bitch. Fuck, no, I’m not begging.”

“Mm, you wanna beg me so bad,” Monique smiled teasingly, and Monet had never wanted a lift to break down more in her life. Turning quickly so that she had one arm on either side of Monique and effectively trapping her, Monet saw a quick, wicked flash in the other girl’s eye as she leant in and dropped her voice.

“I bet I could make you beg me to do a lot of things.”

Monique flashed her a look from under her lashes. “Like what?”

The lift suddenly stopped and the doors slid open, making Monet flinch and Monique jump beside her. To her relief, nobody was waiting to walk in and she couldn’t help but laugh, the other girl rapidly joining in. After a few seconds, Monet realised they had to get out of the elevator and so she reluctantly walked out, Monique following behind her. Now that the moment had been shattered, it was back to being slightly awkward, but Monet really didn’t want to lose what they’d just created. She found herself stopping abruptly, turning around to face Monique who had stopped beside her and was gazing at her hopefully.

“Hey. Do you want to grab lunch just now?” she asked, her heart soaring as she saw Monique’s smile grow wider and more beautiful.

“Sure,” she beamed, Monet smiling back and feeling like a total lovesick idiot.

They started walking again. “Where do you wanna go?”  

Monique ran her tongue over her teeth and shrugged. “Well…my flat’s five minutes away and my flatmate isn’t home.”

Without missing a beat, Monet took Monique’s hand and led her out of the building, part of her hoping she would be able to shut Monique up and part of her really not wanting to.