#phoebe atwell

[crazyoffher]

IMPULSE ADRIFT.

warnings: none.

-

Sometimes you wondered what was wrong with you, and on the downlow, Jenna did too. Although she never minded your physicality. In fact, the more you did it, the more she yearned for it whenever you were near.

You had an addiction, to say the least. Not to drugs, alcohol, or even sex, but to the skin and bones that belonged to none other than your girlfriend. More specifically, her hands.

Left the apartment? Your hand was linked with Jenna’s.

Out to eat with friends? Hands were still linked together, settled beneath the table and out of sight.

Lazy day, maybe watching television together or lying in bed? Nothing changes.

Even at the end of the night, when the two of you are cuddled up in bed, awaiting sleep to take you both, your back is to her front and her arms are wrapped around you. That was the same position the two of you found yourselves in every night you were together, because neither of you liked unnecessary change.

Jenna preferred holding you before quickly falling asleep, and you preferred being held by the one you loved most while trying your hardest to stay awake in her warm embrace. It was because, unbeknownst to her, you would wait until she was asleep to engage in a small act of love.

When you would hear the faint snores that she would produce once in dreamland, you would move her hand that sat on your waist to hold them. You’d press light kisses to each finger as a symbol of your love for her, even if she wasn’t conscious.

You were always the first to awaken, and a burst of energy would radiate within you. A form of energy that only existed when Jenna was around. If she was off filming in a different country, you’d just sulk in bed for over an hour after waking up, counting the days until she returned to you before ultimately getting up in a mood.

A part of the energy you’d feel every morning consisted of wiggling your way out of your girlfriend’s grip and pressing a light kiss to her forehead before making her favorite breakfast, turning into housewife mode, and serving it to her in bed. You would not even have to wake her up; she could smell the hints of her favorite breakfast dish, accompanied by small cups of water and orange juice, from the closed bedroom door and all the way down the hallway. 

She deserved more than you could ever give her, but you tried your best, and she loved that aspect of you.

“Good morning, my love,” is what you would say each morning when you walked into the room, food in hand, and watched Jenna rub her eyes. You’d set the food down on the nightstand next to her and crawl up to peck her forehead in the same spot you had when first awakening, followed by a kiss on the lips that Jenna would sleepily reciprocate.

She adored every routine the two of you had unintentionally set in place. It made her feel like your relationship was calm and organized, and it gave her a sense of relief she had once desperately searched for.

The periods the two of you had together were short, as movie role upon movie role stacked their way into Jenna’s calendar, but you made her forget about the upcoming stress she’d feel. You were there with her in the moment, and you were the only thing keeping her from breaking down due to the negativity of social media and her perfectionism, which was her mortal enemy at times.

You’d shamelessly cry whenever you said goodbye to her at the airport, because why feel shame over bidding farewell to the one you loved most for what felt like the thousandth time? Because of her continuous schedule, you’d sometimes not see her for months upon months, once going a whole year without seeing her because she had filmed two movies back-to-back. You’d always force yourself to remember the last action you’d give her—a kiss to the palm of her hand—and it gave you a sense of security knowing, despite the distance, you were still hers at the end of the day.

And just like you always did, you’d catch Jenna in your arms when she’d return from filming, feeling a growing wet patch imbed into your shoulder from her tears. You’d hold her tight at that moment, and you’d press a kiss to her palm once the two of you calmed down, in the same exact spot you had kissed her when she left you.

When you were together, you couldn’t go a day without kissing her, and you’d die if you went a whole day without even a brush of your fingers. Holding each other, whether hands or bodies, was a key part of your relationship, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @idkwimdtbh

[somekindofpoet]

FilthX

Summary: X AU where Pearl isn't a homicidal maniac and R is the star everyone wants, including Lorraine

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW! Language, smut, strap-on sex

A/N: I think I've combined a least three asks/requests into this little guy, so its for all of you who asked for Lorraine. The pacing is absolutely out of control and self serving, and that just is what it is

This was art. Primal and undomesticated, animalistic artistry. People turned their noses up at it in public, but in private, everyone knows just how fast their own pants can come unzipped.  Everyone watches porn or has at some point in their lives, and anyone who says they haven’t, well, they’re just outright lying to you. 

It’s not like it was your dream to get naked and fuck on camera, but it paid the bills. And it was fun, that much was true. You were 21 when Wayne, Bobby, and Maxine found you, working as a wrangler for rodeos on the west side of Texas. They took one look at you, with your broad shoulders and tapered waist, and knew you’d be an instant success. They propositioned you, promising you wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to and that Bobby would rock your world. You went with them that night and never went back to the rodeo. 

Now, Wayne has this great idea to film at some guesthouse in the country, and he’s hired a pretentious film student called RJ to record what he’s promising will be a universal success. A tasteful, dramatically shot film of the picturesque countryside and cunts. But the thing that’s really caught your attention is who tags along beside RJ. You can’t tell if she’s his girlfriend or not, but you don’t really care because the girl is absolutely stunning. 

When she climbs into the van behind RJ, you don’t even hide the fact that you can’t stop staring. She tucks herself into the corner, quiet and shy, her eyes wide behind the dark curtain of hair falling around her face. You can feel Bobby watching you, a knowing smirk on her face. Jackson slaps your knee, grinning ear to ear. 

“Don’t you go barkin' up the wrong tree now y/n, some girls are too good for you.” He says, making Bobby giggle.

“Oh, I don’t know, Jackson, I think she could convince just about any girl to set aside her halo,” Bobby says, eyeing the girl behind RJ. 

RJ frowns over his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with his knuckle, and glances back at the girl. “Lorraine here volunteered to help me with the film, that’s all.” 

Maxine turns around in the front seat, eyeing Lorraine, “Oh, I’m sure she did. Tell us, mouse, you ever done somethin like this before?”

Lorraine’s lips turn down in apparent distaste, and she shakes her head no. Maxine’s eyes light up, and a condescending smirk stretches across her lips. You brace yourself, knowing she’s going to eat this poor girl alive.

“You don’t like pornography, mouse? You tellin' me you ain’t never seen two beautiful bodies, ruttin together and just felt all hot and bothered? Enough to slip those pretty little fingers in-“

“Enough Maxine,” you interrupt, noticing pink creeping up Lorraine’s neck, turning the tips of her ears red.

Maxine gives you an exasperated look and sighs, “You know mouse, if you are gonna give it a spin, y/n is the ride of a lifetime.”

You roll your eyes, and Jackson playfully slaps the side of Maxine’s chair, “Maxine, you told me I was the ride of a lifetime just yesterday!” He exclaims, sticking his bottom lip out in staged hurt.

You bark out a laugh and kick him, “No way Jackson, you slept with my girl?”

“Your girl?” He cries, “These ladies are all mine!”

“Please, both of you belong to us, if anything.” Bobby retorts, smacking on her bubblegum and twirling her blonde hair between her fingers.

The three of them continue to bicker, but you carefully remove yourself from the conversation to shoot Lorraine a soft smile. She gives you the smallest of nods and looks down at the equipment in her hands. RJ narrows his eyes at you but quickly averts them when you smile at him, flexing your arm discreetly. 

The van turns down a long dirt road, marking your arrival to the promised countryside. Wayne parks aside the farmhouse, and you all clamber out, gathering your luggage and helping with the film equipment. Wayne sorts out your arrangements with the old man sitting on the porch, and you all make your way to the small guest house. On the walk over, you can hear RJ nagging Lorraine about carrying her weight and wince when you hear him call her a prude. You consider standing up for her but decide against it, you hardly even know them, and you don’t want to stick your nose in someone else’s shit. 

Bobby, on the other hand, is more than happy to stick her nose in. She hooks her arm through RJs, her hands unsurprisingly empty of any luggage or equipment. She strokes his arm and giggles at him, wrapping him around her finger. She pulls him ahead of the group, batting her eyelashes and picking at his shirt, leaving you and Lorraine to bring up the rear. You smile down at her, and she glances up at you, quickly looking down at her feet.

“Don’t listen to Maxine,” you tell her, dragging your feet to slow your pace down to hers, “she gets territorial.”

Lorraine readjusts her grip on the box she’s carrying and shrugs, “It’s okay. And I never said I thought what y’all are doin is wrong.”

You tilt your head at her, “Your face kinda said it for ya, gorgeous.” 

The box in her arms slips, and she stumbles, trying not to drop it. She’s blushing again, you see it creeping up her neck when she tosses her hair to the side over her shoulder. 

“It’s not that,” she clarifies, “she called me mouse.”

“Ah,” you say, your eyebrows raising in realization, “yeah, I guess that wasn’t the nicest nickname to slap on ya, was it? Hey, you need help with that?” 

You stop and tuck the two suitcases in your hands under your arm, offering your empty hand out to help her. She fumbles with the box again, trying to get a better grip, and gives up, nodding her head. You scoop it from her hands easily, wrapping one arm around it and continuing to walk. She falters for a moment, watching you carry everything. 

She jogs a few steps to catch up, and looks up at you, “You been with them long?”

“Few years, why?”

“You seem…different. From them.” 

You snort, “What, like, not depraved?”

She shrugs, her arms swinging out wide as she tries to keep pace with you, “Yeah, I guess. Quieter.”

“Oh don’t you worry, I can be as debauched as the rest of them. I usually just save that for when there’s far less clothing.” You wink at her with a grin, making her blush again.

“So what they were sayin…” she hesitates, “about you…”

You stay silent, quietly choosing to force her into speaking the question you already know she’s asking. Forcing her out of her comfort zone. 

She chews at the inside of her lip, “Do you film with Jackson at all?” She asks, beating around what she really wants to ask.

You chuckle, “Oh no, honey, he couldn’t handle me on his best day. Besides, Bobby and Maxine are much prettier’n he is.”

“So…how-“ she cuts herself off, her brow furrowed.

You stop in front of the door, turning to face her, “I have my ways. Why? You curious, Lorraine?” You drawl her name out, pressing your tongue hard against your teeth, your eyebrow raised. 

She takes a sharp breath in, her mouth opening and closing as she sorts through her justification for asking. She’s saved by Wayne, who throws the screen door open from the inside.

“Y/n, let’s go! I wanna get this first scene done before the sun sets.”

You nod at him and turn back to Lorraine, winking at her again, “Duty calls.”

——

The bedroom is set up with a camera sitting on a tripod at the foot of the bed. RJ is standing behind it, tapping his foot nervously. Lorraine hovers in the corner, the boom mic resting on her shoulder. The scene Wayne wants to film is between you and Bobby, with heavy involvement from a particularly large dildo strapped to your waist. The scene plays out, you know the acting is horrific, but that’s not the point of the movie. 

The point is quickly made when your pants are dropped around your ankles and the dildo springs out. You go through the motions, stripping Bobby down and railing her, stopping when you’re told so they can change the camera angle, and then starting back up on Wayne’s command. Bobby is more enthusiastic than usual, and not for any lack of effort on your part. But you think it has something to do with proving Maxine’s point to Lorraine, who is trying her very best not to tremble under the boom. 

You catch yourself glancing over at her, listening to Bobby moan, and you begin to really put on a show. She’s bent over the bed, one of your hands on her waist and the other pressing between her shoulder blades. 

“CUT CUT CUT!” Wayne’s voice brings you to a screeching halt making Bobby whine into the mattress. 

You look over your shoulder at him, releasing her hips, “What the fuck man, she’s almost there!” 

“Yeah what’s the deal Wayne, y/n is giving the fucking performance of a lifetime,” Bobby says, breathless.

“You keep looking away from her, it’s taking away from the scene,” RJ grumbles.

Maxine laughs from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest “I think the church mouse has her distracted.”

Wayne looks at you and runs his hand over his chin, “You gonna focus any time soon y/n, or do we need to switch you out with Jackson?”

“No fuckin way!” You reply, gripping Bobby’s hips again, “Roll your god damned camera and let me finish my job.”

Wayne rests his hands on his hip, nodding, “That’s what I thought. Now let’s wrap this up. Bobby, you know what to do.”

———

The group has settled into the living room, clothes returned, and cameras off. You finished the scene without another glance in Lorraine’s direction, and Bobby did her job in the way only she could. You knew the scene was going to be amazing, and you were feeling proud of yourself. Cheap whiskey is poured into small paper cups, and everyone is in good spirits. 

The conversation gradually turns to the morals of making pornography and the lesson you’ve all learned about taking your youth for granted. The talk seems to spark something in Lorraine, she takes a sip of her whiskey and leans forward, eyes bright.

“I want to do a scene in the movie.”

The room goes quiet, all eyes are turned to her. You fight every urge in you not to smile like a schoolboy who’d found a puppy on his doorstep. Bobby grins at you, and Maxine pushes your leg with her foot from the end of the couch. A shadow passes over RJs face, his feelings clear on the matter.

“You can’t be in the movie Lorraine.”

“Why not?” She asks, cocking her head in challenge.

Maxine pipes up, “Yeah, RJ, why not?”

“She just can’t.” He says, gritting his teeth.

Bobby frowns, “You told me she ain’t your girlfriend no more, RJ. And even if she was, you don’t get to tell her what to do.”

RJ’s jaw drops open, unable to form words. Lorraine looks smug and flashes a grateful smile at Bobby. You’re full-on smiling now, giddy at the thought of seeing this play out.

Wayne lightly slaps Maxine’s leg with a smile, “You wanna take Jackson for a ride then, church mouse?”

Jackson laughs, “Oh no sir, she don’t want me.”

You wink at Jackson, thankful for his deflection. Wayne nods solemnly and looks over at you.

“What you think y/n, you wanna take that big boy between your legs for another spin?”

You throw back the rest of the whiskey, wincing at the taste, “I think I can find it in me.”

RJ stands, “We can’t film it tonight, the lighting is bad.”

“Hm,” Wayne hums, squinting out the dark window, “he ain’t wrong. How’s about we plan for tomorrow, that work for you, church mouse?”

Lorraine swallows the last of her drink and shrugs, nodding, “Guess it’ll have to.”

——

When you drop into your bed for the night, you fall asleep almost instantly. Work always did that to you, siphoned off any gas you had in the tank, and left you dead tired. The whiskey made you feel pleasantly heavy, and you sank into a sweet, dream-filled sleep. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been out, but you woke slowly. It took you a moment to figure out where you were, the silver moonlight washing into the window and the thin cotton blanket scratching at your chin. You blink a few times, trying to figure out what woke you up, but a weight shifting on the bed behind you told you what you needed to know. You roll onto your back, half expecting to see RJ there with a steak knife to your throat. 

You rub your eyes with your knuckles to ensure you were seeing what you thought you were seeing. Lorraine was crawling into your bed, wearing nothing but a yellow bra and panties. Something cold lands on your stomach, and you look down to see your strap-on rising and falling on your belly with your breathing.

“Lorraine?” You say, your voice raspy with sleep.

“Put it on.” Is all she replies, sitting back on her heels next to your elbow.

“What?” Your sleep-muddled brain is struggling to catch up.

“Put the thing on,” she gestures to your strap-on, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

Your brows knit together in confusion, “We ain’t filmin til the mornin'.”

She sighs, “If you don’t want to, I can go back to my room.”

You blink hard again and finally realize that she’s really there and she’s really asking what she’s asking. She moves to get off the bed, but you reach out and grab her by the elbow. You push yourself up the bed, sitting against the headboard, the strap-on sliding off to your side. Her eyes flit down to your exposed chest, and you smirk, proud to show her your body again. She reaches out timidly, her hands shaking with the slightest tremble. You watch her face as she runs her fingers down your stomach, tracing over the hard-set lines between the muscle there. She licks her lips and looks back into your eyes, catching you with a smirk on your lips. 

You pull her into you gently, your hand on the back of her neck, and kiss her. She’s stiff, unsure at first. You pull back and look into her eyes, searching for a signal not to continue. She leans forward further and kisses you again, her lips softer and her hands wandering. Through cracked eyelids, you see hers close, and you pull her in closer. She swings one leg over you, sitting in your lap, her hands running over your shoulders. 

You run your fingers down her spine, sending goosebumps across her skin. Your hands find purchase on her hips as you pull her closer, encouraging her to grind into your lap. She whimpers into your lips, and your heart begins to pound. You’re a little taken aback at your own excitement. You had sex for a living, and you enjoyed it, but this felt different. This wasn’t for everyone else to enjoy, this was for the two of you only. You hardly knew this girl, and yet, you found yourself being impossibly gentle with her. 

She breaks your lips apart and leans back, reaching for the dildo at your side. She bites her lip, evaluating it, and looks back at you.

“You don’t have to, you know.” You say softly, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“I want to,” she says and hands over the harness. 

You take it from her, your lips curling up in a devious smirk. You push her to the side and flip her onto her back, your knees between her legs. Her breath leaves her in a huff when her back hits the mattress. You work at sliding the harness on, tightening the buckles, and ensuring it won’t move. When your eyes return to her face, she looks positively delicious. Edible even. Her eyes are heavy lidded, her full lips parted and pouty, her skin bright in the moonlight. She waits for you, her arms above her head, completely surrendered to you. 

Your tongue wets your lips as you take her in, allowing the tension to build between you. You lean forward on your hands and press a kiss into her stomach just below her bra, your tongue lazily tasting her skin. She gasps and winds her fingers into your hair, your tongue making its journey over the plane of her stomach. Her breathing quickens when you reach her hip bones, her stomach twitching under your mouth. You glance up to meet her dark eyes and pull her panties down her legs. She whines when you kiss the inside of her thigh, pushing her legs open further. Her fingers tighten in your hair, pulling at your scalp.

You kiss up her leg, drawing small sounds of excitement out of her above you, encouraging you. The sweet, musky smell of her arousal fills your senses, sharpening your mind to a razor point. You run your palms up the tops of her thighs and press down on her hips, driving her into the mattress as you run your tongue through her. A quiet, throaty moan leaves her lips, your touch surprising her. You work into her entrance, savoring every centimeter of her on your tongue. You pull out and drag it flat across her clit, the pressure soft and exploratory. Her hand leaves your hair and retreats to the pillow, where she grips the cotton until her knuckles are white.

You lick a stripe from her entrance over her clit again, working her up. You don’t want her to cum from this, you just want to get her going. You wrap your lips around the swollen bundle of nerves and suck on it, loving the way her back arches off the bed when you do it. She’s dripping down onto the mattress, and you decide it’s enough, to begin with, so you lift your head and kiss the inside of her thigh. Your crawl up her body and her hands are reaching for you, pulling your face down into a feverish kiss. She groans at her own taste on your tongue, her fingers right around the back of your neck. The dildo drags up her thigh, making her whimper into your mouth, one of her hands racing down your back to grip at your ass. 

Just when you thought you knew what she wanted, she’s pushing you over, flipping you on your back. You help her and swing around, pulling her to sit on your stomach as you fall back. She’s hot and wet on your belly, rutting against the ridges of your abs. Before she can get much further, you sit up and wrap your hands behind her back, kissing her chest and unhooking her bra in one fell swoop. She lets it fall to the side and pushes you onto your back, leaning over you, her hair falling into your face. She kisses you quickly and then pulls back, lifting her hips and gripping the base of the dildo in her hand beneath her. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, watching her rub the tip around her entrance, coating it in her slick.

She sits slowly on it, letting it sink into her inch by inch, one hand pressing on your chest, the other holding the dildo in place. When her hips settle into yours, the whole toy inside of her, she sighs. It makes you feel like an explosion, fragments of what you thought you knew ripping out and embedding themselves into the walls of the room. Your mouth drops open when she runs her fingers down your body and then up her own. She rolls her hips forward, rocking them up on the backstroke. You’d always found strap-on sex extremely satisfying, but for the first time, you’re wishing you could feel everything. You’d give your left arm to feel the toy being gripped inside of her. The thought nearly takes your breath away. 

She begins to move in earnest, the muscles in her legs flexing as she rocks over your hips. When she runs her hand into her own hair, her fingers combing it out of her face, you feel the itch to have her closer. You reach out and settle for holding her hips, pushing and pulling her as you begin to roll your own, keeping the timing and rhythm perfectly on her pace. You slide one hand from her hip over her stomach, up to her nipple, and roll your fingertip over it, her hips moving faster. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, only broken up by your occasional grunting and her soft moaning. 

She shudders and drops down on her hands over your body, panting, a bead of sweat rolling from her neck to the hollow of her throat. You watch it puddle there, rocking side to side with the movement of your bodies. You bend your knees and plant your feet into the bed, giving yourself support to properly fuck her from underneath, rocking her forward with every thrust. A low groan tears out of her throat, too loud for a quiet, sleeping house. You pull her down into a kiss to silence her, forcing her whining down to a more appropriate timbre. 

Your arms wrap around her back, and you hold her weight as you sit up with her in your lap, still riding you. She rests her arms over your shoulders, her fingers pressing into the muscles in your back. Her fingertips soon turn into nails, the stinging making you gasp. She drops her head on your shoulder, holding you tight. Her hips jerk off her cadence, her breathing uneven and shallow. Her teeth dig into the skin of your shoulder, making you groan in her ear. She releases you and throws her head back, using the back of your neck to anchor herself. 

Her body freezes up, her hips moving in choppy strokes. You can feel her dripping around the toy inside of her, running down your legs. It’s enough to send a perfectly sane person off the edge, and you’re suddenly aware of why people were able to be seduced into cults. Her body was an altar, and you were drinking her in like holy water, content to die of thirst if she so wished it. She collapses against your chest, and you fall back into the pillows. You give her time to recover, letting her catch her breath and cool off as she put the puzzle of her mind back together. Eventually, she lifts herself off the dildo and rolls to your side, her head resting on your chest. 

As much as you want to continue touching her, you want the harness off your hips more. It was squeezing you in an unpleasant pinch, and the hours you’d spent in it meant chafing had begun. You carefully unbuckle it without moving her from your chest and push it down to your knees. You use your feet to wriggle out of it and kick it off the end of the bed, sighing in relief. 

Lorraine places her hands on top of one another over your chest and rests her chin on them, looking up at you, “I imagined it was gonna be good,” she says, a sleepy drawl in her voice, “but I had no idea it’d be like that.”

You yawn and take a lock of hair between your fingers, twirling it around them and rubbing it with your thumb, “You should give yourself credit where credit is due, you rocked that like it was your business.”

She smiles, her eyes crinkling, “Tomorrow it’ll be my business, tonight was just because I wanted to.”

Your eyes are sliding shut in spite of yourself, the whiskey and exertion settling into your bones again. Lorraine presses a kiss on your ribs and pushes herself up. You crack your eyes open and shake your head, your hand resting on her back.

“Stay.” You tell her, closing your eyes again. 

She takes a moment to consider, then pulls the blankets back and crawls under them, covering you with the other end. Just before you fall into the abyss of sleep, you feel her press her nose into your neck, drape her arm and a leg over your body, and you’re out like a light.

[deep-fried-egg]

Don't be a brat.

This includes: brat taming, g!p vada, Dom!vada, top! Vada, sub! R, bottom! R, fem! R, spanking, Vada cumming inside

SMUT BELOW THE CUT, MINORS DNI

"Yeah y/n. Juice wrld is 100x better than sublime." Vada said as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram . She was sitting on the couch, feet up and legs stretched out.

"Have you even heard sublime?" Y/n asked Vada who only shrugged. "It sounds like someone just wants to be a pain in the ass. Who listens to juice wrld anyway?"

"The people that have a brain, that's who." Vada retorted back, then continued scrolling through her feed. "What do you know about people that have brains." Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Vada said with narrowed eyes. "Nothing, don't worry about it." Y/n answered, knowing that it would only annoy Vada further.

"That didn't sound like nothing." Vada set her phone down "If you wanna be a fucking brat I might have to fuck the attitude out of you."

"You won't," Y/n replied flatly, but didn't look up from her lap.

"Oh yeah?" Vada got off the couch and stood directly over Y/n. "Is that a dare or what?" Before Y/n could respond, Vada leaned over and gave Y/n a kiss. Y/n tensed, ready for the other girl to push her down, but instead she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull them closer. Y/n felt Vada's hand move from her hip to her ass, squeezing and massaging the area while their lips remained locked together.

"Vads... Just get to it already." Y/n said between kisses when Vada started to nip at Y/n's lower lip, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from her girlfriend."I don't like your tone, Y/n." Vada whispered in Y/n's ear before pressing another kiss against her neck. Y/n shuddered when Vada started sucking hard on her pulse point

The brunette girl moved her hands from Y/n's ass to her thighs where she pulled y/n into a tighter embrace. When Y/n let out a small gasp of air Vada took the opportunity to slide her tongue into Y/n's mouth. Y/n moaned at the sensation, allowing Vada to deepen the kiss.

"lay down on my lap brat." Vada commanded as she sat down next to me. Of course, I obliged. Immediately I did as told

Vada squeezed my ass before quickly pulling how my pants and panties so my bare ass is facing her.

"I'll only give you ten for today, but if you pull this shit ever again I'll double it." Vada threatened before giving you a harsh smack then a gentle rub.

"One." I can already feel myself getting wet...

"Two." somehow this slap was even harder than the first one, but it came with a quiet "sorry"

"Three..." This was the softest spank she's given me so far, I'm surprised she hasn't asked me if I'm still okay with this-

"Is this still okay?" Nevermind. I give Vada a quick nod before flinching from another smack.

"Four."

"Five? Yeah five." I softly smile at the fact that she forgot the number she's at.

"Six." At this point my arousal is spreading to my thighs.

"Seven, can I continue?" She asks again.

"Yes, vada it's fine now stop aski-" I get cut off by a hard smack.

"Eight." She said louder than the other numbers.

"Nine."

"Nine and a half..."

"And ten."

At this point I am dripping onto her shorts, it's fucking embarrassing that pain turns me on this much. To be honest it's not only the pain it's the fact that I can feel her hard cock pressing into me as well.

"fuck I bet you're so wet for me that I don't need to use lube..." Vada inches her hand closer and closer to my center.

"I'm not wet at all." I managed to get out right when she was about to touch my heat.

"let's see if you're lying or not even though I already know you are." Vada ran her fingers through my center and came up with an embarrassing amount of slick.

"I knew it."

"come back up on the couch. Face down, ass up." This time I did get on the couch but I didn't get into the position she wanted me in. Instead I just laid down on my back.

"Did you hear what I asked? I said face down ass up." Vada said but I didn't budge.

"Do you just want to be punished?" I still did not move.

"Move."

I realize that she wont fuck me unless I'm in that position so I gave up trying and finally moved.

"you know I'm gonna have to punish you again for that?" Vada said while rubbing the tip of her cock against my clit... I didn't even realize she took her shorts off.

"Vada..." I tried to say an entire sentence but apparently I'm not allowed to talk anymore.

"Nope. Be quiet slut." I feel vada completely pull away which causes me to whine into the cushion Vada is pressing my face into.

"Oh do you want me inside?" I nodded into the cushion but that wasn't good enough.

"Actually, you can talk... So use your words."

"Yes... please I want you so fucking bad Vada." I reached behind me trying to find her cock but she slapped my hand away and she grabbed it herself.

"No touching, got it?" With that, Vada slid her dick inside me causing me to groan loudly. I couldn't help but squirm and let out a loud moan.

"Fuck you're tight." Her fingers dug into my hips as she thrust faster and deeper into me.

"Vada...." I said again and this time she stopped moving and looked up at me. She gave me a devilish smile. "Say my name again." I swallowed thickly and looked into her eyes. "Vada...please..." This time, it sounded more like a whimper. The brunette smirked and kept fucking me.

"Where did all your brattiness go? You were arguing with me a couple of minutes ago." Vada teased before giving me one particularly rough thrust, this time causing me to moan. I clenched my teeth shut and bit my bottom lip to stifle any other noises I could make. "I like your feisty side babe, I hope you keep being a little fucking brat long enough for us to work through your bitchiness." Vada chuckled darkly as she slowly moved her hips forward causing me to tighten around her dick. She stopped and waited for a few seconds then went back to thrusting inside of me. I moaned as she began to pick up speed, thrusting harder each time. I was panting heavily, sweat forming on my forehead.

"Are you going to behave now?" Vada said, a smug smirk adorning her features.

"Uh huh." I said quietly, breathing heavily. "Good girl." she purred. As Vada continued to pump her dick into me until I neared my release... but instead of letting me cum Vada immediately pulled out.

"What the fuck?" I hissed angrily, just wanting her to make me cum as soon as possible.

"Don't complain brat. You know why I'm not letting you cum yet" Vada replied nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"Because you need to learn some manners."

"I didn't even do anything this time!" I snapped, annoyed.

"Stop talking. You're lucky I'm too horny to stop fucking you right now..." Vada said as she slammed her body back into mine before picking up her pace once again, this time leaving no space between us. My whole body shook as my nails dug harshly into the couch cushions.

"Please..." I whined in desperation as Vada increased the speed of her stroke. "Please." My voice was becoming hoarse and the pressure building up inside me became unbearable.

"Apologize for being such a fucking brat earlier."

"Sorry... for being a brat." I mumbled as tears gathered in my eyes from how uncomfortable being kept on the edge of an orgasm is. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I continued to apologize over and over again as she sped up even more, causing me to cum all over her cock. Vada was about to cum as well and I could feel her tense up, I knew it was coming...

A low growl came out of Vada's throat as she pounded into me roughly and cumming deep inside of me. Vada slowly pulled out and moved away from me so I could finally lie on my back. My eyes met hers as we both breathed heavily, I ran my hand down her chest gently caressing it while she placed lazy kisses down my neck.

"You know I don't actually think you're a brat or a whore right?" Vada questioned, bringing our foreheads together.

"I know." I sighed contently as she continued to place soft butterfly kisses across my face.

" I wouldn't have gotten my way if you weren't so obedient... you're the perfect little sub, don't ever forget that." Vada whispered in my ear before kissing me deeply.

[bobbin-buckley]

[slvt4lanadelrey]

Sweet nothings | Vada Cavell

Warning: mention of school shooting

Her back was pressed against your front. Vada was wrapped up in your blanket sleeping with her mouth wide open, saliva trickling out. She snored, loudly. You didnt mind of course, Vada hadn't been getting much if not any sleep since the school shooting.

She pushed everyone away the first few months, even you. But somehow on a random Sunday Vada turned up with sweat beads falling off her face; she smiled, offering you a reason. She broke down, crying into your arm. You stayed, you actually stayed after she opened up. She didn't expect you to stay, so when you did she never left your side. Mrs Cavell didn't mind Vada staying at your house, hell, Vada hadn't been home for two weeks.

Mrs Cavell knew that Vada was getting sleep, eating healthy and most of all opening up.

"Mm, mornin'," Vada turned around, speaking out to you in the darkness of your room. Your curtains were drawn closed, not even the tiniest bit of light escaping the small cracks.

"Good morning, love" you smiled at her dimpled filled face. She was elegant, flawless even. You couldn't believe someone as perfect as Vada exists, but she did and she was yours.

"Mmm. Hug me!" The brunette whined, shuffled backwards so her back was plush against your front. You giggled, pressing your lips to the back of her neck. The two of you began to spoon; you held her close, her steady heartbeat calming your thoughts.

Eventually, you was lulled into a sleep. Snoring soundlessly into Vada's neck, whilst vada slept with a smile flushed on her cheeks. When she woke up the two of you was still cuddling, your arms were drapped around her body, snuggling into the brunette.

Her heart swelled, her eyes filling with tears at your sleeping state. You was lying flat against her, dreaming about something that was irrelevant.

"I love you." She whispered, pressing her lips into your forehead. You stirred, humming into your sleep. Somehow, you manged to move closer to Vada, holding her even tighter with a bone cursing grasp.

She stroked your hair, humming into the morning mist of the summers day. She knew she had a lot of work to improve on, that she couldn't keep icing you out; within the moment she promised herself she never one again, not when you looked so pretty when you slept.

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Master List

Wednesday Series

Wednesday X Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Killer in NYC

Tara Carpenter X Reader

Intro Never Split Up Girlfriend? Suspicious Secret Secrets Secrets Secrets Part II Secrets Secrets Part III Finale

She Don't Wanna Marry Me Lorraine Day X Reader

She Don’t Wanna Marry Me She Don’t Wanna Marry Me 2 She Don’t Wanna Marry Me 3 She Don’t wanna Marry Me 4 She Don't Wanna Marry Me 5 She Don't Wanna Marry Me 6

Requests/One Shots

Innocent (Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader)-SPOILERS The Sinclair Sister (Blind Fem!Reader X Wednesday Addams) The Sinclair Sister Part 2 (Blind Fem! Reader X Wednesday Addams) Mastermind (Ghostface Reader X Tara Carpenter)-SPOILERS Mastermind Part 2 (Tara Carpenter X Reader)-SPOILERS Frozen (Gn!Reader X Wednesday Addams) Headache (Telepathic Reader X Wednesday Addams) Mine (Camila Montes X Reader) Cat Got Your Tongue (Wednesday X Reader) Might As Well (Wednesday X Reader) Just Say Yes (Amber Freeman X Tara Carpenter X Reader)

[xmarziex]

》ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᴏʀᴛᴇɢᴀ || ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ《

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᴏʀᴛᴇɢᴀ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴄᴀɪʀᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴄᴀᴍɪʟᴀ ᴍᴏɴᴛᴇs✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴅᴀʀᴄʏ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴅᴀᴡɴ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴀʟᴠᴇs✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ʜᴀʀʟᴇʏ ᴅɪᴀᴢ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴋᴀᴛɪᴇ ᴛᴏʀʀᴇs✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ʟᴏʀʀᴀɪɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ✮

》ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴄᴜᴏᴜs《 (+𝟷𝟾)

ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴍᴀʙᴇʟ✮

》ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴛᴄʜᴇɴ《

ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀɴɴ✮

》ғʀɪᴅᴀʏ ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ《

ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴘʜᴏᴇʙᴇ ᴀᴛᴡᴇʟʟ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮sᴋʏᴇ ᴡɪʟʟᴏᴡ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴛᴀʀᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴘᴇɴᴛᴇʀ✮

》ᴄʟᴏsᴇʀ《 (+𝟷𝟾)

ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴠᴀᴅᴀ ᴄᴀᴠᴇʟʟ✮

ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

✮ᴡᴇᴅɴᴇsᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴅᴅᴀᴍs✮

》ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɪss《

ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

»──── ◦•♛•◦────«

𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐑: ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒʷⁿ ᴶᵉⁿⁿᵃ ᴼʳᵗᵉᵍᵃ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᵃˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗᶠᵘˡ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳˢ. ᴵ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱˢʰ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵗᵒʳʸˡⁱⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉⁿˢⁱᵛᵉˡʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ᵒʳ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵘⁿˡᵉˢˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ. ᴾ.ˢ. ᴵ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠᵉᵐ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

[caitlynscat]

I know we’ve spoken about Wednesday and Tara being cousins. But what do you think about going a step further and adding Phoebe from The Babysitter films into the mix?

Omg I know Tara and Phoebe would get along very well. I think Wednesday might adore Phoebe’s personality but I also think she couldn’t stand her 💀💀💀

Phoebe on the other hand definitely hates Wednesday though. In a weird way. She loves Tara though and they have no problem bonding.

If the three of them worked together it would probably be chaotic as fuck.

Also Sam is confused as to why phoebe…… is hanging out with her sister. Sam probably doesn’t like her at all 💀💀💀

[fandomnerd9602]

Can you do a Phoebe Atwell (The Babysitter: Killer Queen) x Male Reader where the reader is a vampire and he shows his true face by killing Sonya and Max? Thank you for making my day better

Y/N slices through Sonya and Max with his wings and sucks out their blood…

Y/N: are you okay?

Phoebe: yeah. So you’re a-a vampire?

Y/N: I only feed on bad people

Phoebe: that’s so hot

Y/N: your pulse is pounding harder

Phoebe: it’s just nerves. It’s not like your incredibly hot or anything

[writing-rat]

Jenna’s Characters Positions Headcanons

Vada:

Is a top and dominant

She is a shy and awkward one however

Gets embarrassed easily over it, especially in grey shorts

Tara

She is a top dominant

She likes be in control and shows it off

Brags whenever she manages to tease you

Daddy kink

Is possessive over you

Lorraine

Is a switch

She can be either dom or sub depending on mood

She is embarrassed at first but once she’s into it, she is into it, no stopping her

Phoebe

Is a switch

(not watched yet, can’t say)

Camila

Dominant

Mommy kink

Possessive as fuck

Haven’t watched, can’t say much yet

Taglist: @deep-fried-egg

[ghostfaceaddams]

Jenna Ortega Cinematic Universe

Tara Carpenter: Nice parenting job by the way. Shovel Talk Tara Argh Carpenter this night has opened my eyes

Wednesday Addams: It's amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad name. guts

Ellie Alves: Everybody wants to fuck the fifteen-year-old!

Vada Cavell: Yeah...my porn addiction.

Lorraine Day: When did you become such a prude?

Phoebe Atwell: I just want to fucking scream.

Camila Montes: If she were into girls, I'd try to hit that too!

Katie Torres: We told them that there would be a casting director here for a new sexy, romantic reality show. That's you, Mom.

[fishgarbage999]

[somekindofpoet]

Nevermore Grounds

Summary: Reader owns Nevermore Grounds, a Brooklyn coffee shop that Jenna stumbles upon.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Language 

A/N: @irish-piece-of-trash thanks for the request my friend! Hope you enjoy this one. Also, is there a Raven cameo from The 100 or is she cleverly named Poe reference? I'll let you decide :)

Part II

Nevermore Grounds

It had been your dream for most of your life to own a coffee shop. To create a space that felt like a hazy dream. Somewhere you could retreat to no matter the weather or circumstance. So that is exactly what you did. You went to school and earned your business degree with a minor in dramatic literature for fun. 

Thus, Nevermore Grounds was born, tucked away amongst the brownstones of Brooklyn.   You had created an atmosphere you never wanted to leave, so you simply did not. You rented the apartment above the shop, ensuring you rarely needed to leave the building if you didn’t want to. The shop had turned into an expression of yourself, with soft leather secondhand furniture, dark bookshelves filled to the brim with every kind of story, and the ever-present smell of espresso grounds. 

Many of the people who frequented your shop were college students or young New York transplants, tapping away at their laptops or tucking themselves on the couch in front of the large fireplace to read one of the many books from the shelves. In every season aside from summer, a quiet crackling fire was lit, the lighting was low, and the atmosphere was warm and comfortable. You kept a small staff of four to six, choosing to barista yourself most days. Most of your employees were also college students, rotating out every few years as they graduated and moved away, thanking you for your companionship and easygoing management. 

It was a particularly nasty day outside, so you let the two on shift head home early, telling them you’d lock up at the end of the day. Usually, customer traffic died down in the late afternoon, giving you the place to yourself. You still had a few hours until you could lock up, but the place was dead empty, so you grab your dog-eared copy of Salems Lot and curl up in front of the fireplace, content to read until you closed.

You’d read the book many times, but you could always get lost in the tale of the small Maine town haunted by vampires. Your eyes were growing heavy as you read, the gray light outside fading as the sun slowly set over the city. The bells jingling from the front door snapped you out of your Stephen King daze, and you jerk your head up toward the sound. A slight girl and two rather large men were shaking the rain from their shoulders, the girl closing an umbrella as she stepped inside. She picks her head up and looks around, frowning in confusion. You sit up further on the couch, catching her attention.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry. I thought this was a bookstore.” Her voice is soft and airy, floating across the room.

You stand and smile, “You thought Nevermore Grounds was the name of a bookstore?”

A bashful smile pulls at her lips as she eyes you, “The Grounds bit was slightly confusing, but I saw the shelves,” she gestures at the overflowing books on the wall, “and figured I’d give it a shot.”

You make your way around the counter toward the cash register, and point up at the menu. “I sell coffee. The books are free.”

You know who she is, you knew the moment she spoke, but you decided not to fan girl and just treat her like you’d never seen her before. She seems to appreciate it because she approaches the counter with an intrigued smile.

“I’ll take a coffee then and a book recommendation if you have that too.” 

You glance back at the two men hovering behind her, and she turns to look over her shoulder at them. She turns back to you and shrugs, “They like following me around.”

You raise your eyebrows, playing in to her joke, “I don’t blame them.” You grin at her, your eyes twinkling with mischief, “You want that coffee black? And do they want anything?” You lower your voice to a comedically loud whisper, leaning closer to her over the counter, “Can they speak?”

A surprised smile stretches across her face, showing her teeth and wrinkling her nose. “Only when they smell fear. And I’ll have a latte, actually,” she turns to the men behind her pretending to ignore your conversation, “Billy, Phil, coffee?”

They both light up, their eyes crinkling above their smiles and nodding. She nods once and turns back to you, “Make it three. And the book recommendation?”

You input her charge in the cash register, “That’s six dollars even, Miss…?”

She slides a ten dollar bill across the counter to you, squinting at you, trying to figure out if you’re messing with her or not. You absolutely are, but you’re not going to tell her that. 

“It’s Jenna.”

You nod, “Mhm, and there are no bad books here, they’re all great choices really. Just grab one from the shelf, and I guarantee it’ll be the right one.” 

“They’re all great? That’s a bold assumption.” She says as she wanders over to the closest shelf, running her fingers along the spines.

You busy yourself making their coffee, watching her when you look up. “I should know, they’re all mine.”

She stops and turns back to you, her fingers resting on the top of a paperback, “All of them?”

You nod, looking back down at your work. You’re focused on the foam art, a recent practice you’d picked up during hours when the shop was slow.

Jenna returns to her exploration, humming now and again as she reads the titles. “So you’ve read all of them?”

You walk two of the lattes to the counter, pushing them toward Billy and Phil, “I think so, unless people leave their books here, which happens sometimes. Those ones I haven’t sorted yet.”

You turn back to finish the foam art on Jenna’s drink, smiling down at the picture you’d created. You pick it up gently and walk it to the counter, setting it down and resting your chin in your hand. 

“One latte for Jenna.” You say, smirking at her when she turns toward you. 

She leaves the shelves and approaches the counter, pulling the mug over and looking down at the foam. You’d created a rather detailed image of Thing Addams, and she looks up with a playful frown. 

“So you do know who I am then.” She says as she lifts the cup and leaves the counter, picking through the wayward furniture to a table close to the fire.

You leave your station to follow her and sit on the arm of the couch. “Of course I do. Does anyone not know who you are?”

She shrugs and sips the coffee, closing her eyes to savor the taste. “This is good.” She sips the coffee again, this time keeping her eyes on you.

“I’m glad you like it, or I might have to change professions.”

“You could audition as an actor, you did pretty well fooling me.” She says over her cup.

“Ah, I love New York too much. Plus, I’ve heard actors can be real divas, you know.”

A snicker draws your attention to the two men sitting a few tables away, they’re listening to you openly now, laughing at Jenna’s expense. She pretends to be affronted, but the smile never leaves her face.

“I like to think I’m pretty humble, thank you very much.”

You laugh and stand, heading over to one of the bookshelves. You pull The Bell Jar down, swiping the dust from its cover. 

“Have you read this one?”

She eyes the cover, “Sylvia Plath? Of course I have. Try again.”

You hum, returning the book. Which one to give her, which one? She’s probably read most of them, so you’ll need to dig a bit deeper. Your eyes light up when you find The Song of Achilles, and you bring it to her.

“This one?”

She frowns, looking down at it, and takes it from you. She opens the first page and scans it, flips the book over to look at the back. 

“No. I haven’t read this one.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” you say, returning to your spot on the couch. You crane your neck to look at her, “We close in an hour, by the way.”

She tilts her head at you, “Your boss lets you read on the clock?”

You snort, “Yes, she does. She also looks at me in the mirror when I brush my teeth every morning.”

She stares at you, trying to understand, then her face lights up in realization, “Oh, you own this place!” 

“My pride and joy,” you say, opening Salem’s Lot again, grinning at the pages. 

You don’t see the small smile on Jenna’s face as she watches you or the raised eyebrows of Billy and Phil as they watch her.  You do notice when she gets up half an hour later and leaves her empty mug on the counter, then comes back to curl into the armchair to your left, the book still in her hands. You glance up over your book and watch her eyes racing across the page, spellbound. You return to reading your book, but you’re hyper aware of her, just in your peripherals.

A throat clears behind you, making both of you jump. You twist around to see Billy standing behind the couch, his finger on his watch.

“Ms. Ortega, it’s time.” He says, his voice deep and raspy.

Jenna sighs and slides a napkin into the pages of the book, then looks at you. She lifts the book, “Can I take this?”

“Only if you bring it back.”

She nods, one eyebrow raised, “Smooth.”

You shrug, “I do my best.”

She stands and stretches, looking down at you, “I never got your name.”

You get up off the couch and look at your watch, it’s an hour past closing time. You yawn and make your way to the door, opening it for Billy when he follows you. Jenna crosses her arms expectantly, waiting for you to answer.

“Tell you what,” you say, scratching your head and ruffling your hair, “Come back with my book and I’ll tell you my name.”

“And if I don’t come back?” She challenges.

“Then I’m out a book, and a giant missed opportunity.”

She smirks, accepts your answer, and follows her bodyguards out the door. You lean out of the doorframe, watching them climb into a black town car and give them a small wave as they drive down the street. You turn in and lock the door, pulling the shades closed and heading to the register to close it out. As you’re counting the dollars, the gravity of the scenario you’d just lived out slams into you. You’d just flirted with Jenna Ortega successfully for the last two hours. No one was going to believe this.

——

Two days pass, and your book has yet to be returned. You made a point to be in the coffee shop as often as possible, your eyes are always drawn to the door when it opened. Many faces passed through, but none of them were the one you were hoping for. 

One of your long standing employees, Raven, took it upon herself to poke at you endlessly about it. You had relayed the story to her the day after Jenna showed up, and at first, she didn’t believe you. It wasn’t until she’d read an article about the movie Jenna was shooting in Manhattan that she finally accepted you were telling the truth. 

“Dude, count your losses, she’s not coming back.” Raven’s voice made you jump, pushing yourself off the counter.

“You’re such a pessimist.” You grumble, grabbing the rag you were using before your daydream and returning to wiping down the wooden bar.

“And you’re entirely too hopeful,” Raven says, laughing softly and shaking her head.

You sigh, “Probably. But a girl can dream.”

You head into the storage closet to return the rag, fumbling around for the light. You end up tripping over the mop handle and fall into the bucket, which is still half full. Everything happened so suddenly all you can do is sit in the bucket, your butt soaking wet, and reevaluate your life choices. You consider getting angry and scolding your employees about the importance of cleanliness and organization until you remember you were the one who left the bucket half full and the mop haphazardly strewn to the side. 

When you finally pull yourself together, you realize you’re stuck. You close your eyes and inhale deeply. Of fucking course, your ass is stuck in the mop bucket. Why wouldn’t it be? You were always so lucky. You squirm around trying to find purchase on anything but just end up rolling the bucket around the room, your feet unable to reach the floor. You slump, giving up, and scoot toward the door.

“Raven!”

“Uh, kinda busy boss!”

“Raven seriously, right now!”

“We have a customer!”

“Tell them I’m very sorry, but your boss is currently stuck in a FUCKING MOP BUCKET!”

“Oh I don’t think you want to tell them that…”

“Raven!” You throw your hands up, desperate for her help.

You hear footsteps approaching the closet and sigh in relief.

“It’s about time dude, help m-“ 

Your words are cut off as you see who’s come to your aid. It’s not Raven, that’s for sure. You hide your face in your hands as your savior barks out a hard, genuine laugh. Just your luck. The day Jenna comes back, she finds you stuck in a bucket. You think maybe you’ll find whatever god has cursed you and fight them to the death. Raven pops up over Jenna’s shoulder, a pained smile on her face. You shoot her a ‘what the fuck’ look, and she throws her hands up, shrugging and gesturing at Jenna.

“I know this must be truly hilarious, but would one of you please get me out of this damn bucket?!” 

You figure since your pride has dissolved in the soapy water under your butt, you may as well resort to begging for help. You reach both hands out, and Jenna takes one, Raven the other. They pull, finally dislodging you. As you begin to wiggle out, the bucket tips forward, sending you sprawling onto the floor, the mop water dumped on your body. They let go of your hands and begin laughing uncontrollably, both bent over, their legs weak from their giggling. You remain on the floor, questioning the universe and wondering what you’d done to deserve this.

You roll onto your back, any pretense of being cool long gone. “I’m glad you’re both getting such a kick out of this.”

Jenna composes herself first and holds her hand out for you. You take it, and she helps you to your feet. Raven has abandoned the bar, flopping onto the couch, tears running down her cheeks. You finally see Billy and Phil perched at a small table, drinking their coffees and chatting happily. The rest of the shop is empty, due to the hour. Jenna’s hand is hovering near you like she’s unsure if you need her to steady you. You glance down at it, then back to her, blowing your hair out of your face. 

Her brows furrow in a mixture of amusement and concern, “Are you okay?”

You laugh and shake your head, “My pride has been mortally wounded. Other than that, I think I’ll be fine.”

Jenna smiles, nodding, “I brought your book back.”

“Did you like it?” You ask her, trying to hide the hope in your tone.

“I loved it, you were right, it was great.” She says, making her way out from behind the bar and to her purse on a chair near the fireplace. 

She holds it up, showing you it’s been returned safely, and places it back on the shelf. You look down at your soaking wet clothes, dripping onto the floor. You look back up at her, she’s waiting for you to keep your promise from the other night. 

“I’m going to go change, and when I come back, I’ll fill my end of the bargain. And give you another book if you want one.”

She raises an eyebrow but nods intrigued. She sits in the armchair she had been in the other night and makes herself comfortable.

“Hey Ray,” you call out, “can you make Jenna her coffee? And an extra for me, please, the usual.”

Raven drags herself off the couch and salutes you, “Right away, fearless leader.”

You roll your eyes and head to the back of the shop, where the door to your apartment is. You quickly change into dry clothes and hurry back down the stairs, eager to spend more time with Jenna. When you open the door to the coffee shop, Raven is perched on the bar, talking animatedly. The smallest shiver of anxiety passes through you, who knew what horrors Raven had told Jenna. Then again, she had just pulled you out of a mop bucket, so things probably couldn’t get worse. Probably.

Jenna smiles up at you when she catches sight of you, and you can tell Raven has told her something you’re not going to appreciate.

“Raven was just telling me about your recent interest in watching your front door,” Jenna says, her tone poking fun at you.

You cross your arms and shoot a glare over to Raven, who yelps and rolls off the bar and behind the counter. 

“Oh, was she now?” You say, flopping onto the couch.

Jenna laughs, and Raven pops her head from behind the bar. “See, what had happened was I’m a great wingman and figured she should know that you’re a useless lesbian who-“

You twist around on the couch, throwing one arm out, your eyes wide in horror, “Ray what the fuck!”

Raven sinks back below the bar, her fingers slipping off it as she hides from you. You turn back to Jenna, your cheeks burning. She’s leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her fist. She’s smirking, her eyes burning into you, making you pull at your collar to let out some heat.

“She is a good wingman,” Jenna says, her eyes glinting.

You run your hand over your face, mortified. “She’s a menace, I’m sorry if any of this makes you uncomfortable.”

“If it made me uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have stayed,” she says matter of factly.

Her eyes are still on you, evaluating something you don’t quite comprehend yet. She seems to make up her mind on something and leans back in the armchair, her hands on her knees.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Sure, where?”

She laughs, shaking her head, “No, like, on a date. Would you go on a date with me?”

Your jaw falls open, and you freeze. Your brain has short-circuited, and you can’t for the life of you figure out how to do anything but stare at her in awe. Her smile begins to falter, and the quickest flash of worry crosses her face.

“If you don’t want to, that’s oka-“

“Are you kidding me I’d love to!” You finally begin processing information again and shoot up off the couch. 

You reach your hand down to her, offering to help her off the armchair. She looks at your hand, confused, and looks up at you. You realize she hadn’t meant right at this moment but lean into it.

“Let’s go.” You tell her, your hand still outstretched.

“Don’t you have to work?” She asks, her eyes darting across your face.

“My shop, remember? Plus, my menace of a wingman can lock up, can’t you Ray? Unless you have something else going on this evening?”

Jenna shakes her head and takes your hand. She doesn’t drop it when she stands but interlaces your fingers. It’s a gesture so intimate for someone who was basically a stranger, but it doesn’t bother you. 

“Have you ever walked the High Line?” You ask her, grinning.

Dates in NYC were your specialty, and you knew she’d love it. When she shakes her head no, the decision is made. You look over to her bodyguards and whistle at them.

“Hey boys, there’s enough of me to go around, let’s go on the world's weirdest date!”

Jenna lets go of your hand and tsks, slapping your shoulder with the back of her hand. You are in rare form, recovered from the embarrassment of earlier and riding a high. You’d show her a great time in NYC if it were the last thing you did. 

——

The bodyguards were courteous and trailed along far enough behind the two of you that you almost forgot they were there. The High Line is a 1.5-mile elevated park lined with gardens and murals, and stunning views of the city. Jenna loves it, as you knew she would. She walks with shocking ease in her high heels, her eyes wide and absorbing everything the city has to show her.  While you walk and take in the surroundings, you talk, getting to know each other better. 

You learn that she prefers New York over Hollywood and that she always wished she could move there. You tell her about the coffee shop and getting your degree at NYU. She talks about the movie shes filming and how much fun she’s having with her cast.

When you reach the elevator that will take you off the High Line above Chelsea Market, you pull her toward it. “I have to show you this place,” you skid to a halt, turning to her, “You do like tacos, right?”

She gives you a deadpan stare, pursing her lips. She doesn’t need to answer, her face is enough. You give her an awkward smile realizing it was a stupid question.

“Right,” you say, “Latina from California…well this place is something different. Its Japanese inspired tacos, one of my favorite places.”

You pull her through Chelsea Market, Billy and Phil closer to your sides, keeping the crowds away. People recognized her, but most of the locals ignored the two of you. Celebrities were nothing new in Manhattan, so most people would stare and then go about their business. You buy her dinner, and the conversation between you is easy and endless. It felt like you had known her forever. When you leave Chelsea Market, Billy taps his watch, his eyebrows raised.

Jenna nods at him and turns to you, “I have to go, but I had a great time with you today.”

You sigh, smiling and nodding your head, “I wish you didn’t, but I get it. Jenna Ortega is in high demand these days.”

She laughs and holds her hand out, “Give me your phone.”

You hand it over with no hesitation and watch her as she types away, her tongue poking out between her lips as she focuses. She hands it back to you, her name in your contact list. Butterflies explode into your stomach as you absorb the information. You look up at her, gaping. 

“Text me, okay?” She says, stepping closer to you.

You nod, unable to speak. She leans in and kisses you gently, her hands pulling at your waist. You take far too long to register, and she’s already pulling back when you find the brainpower to reciprocate. You reach out and pull her back in, kissing her, taking her by surprise. She laughs, her teeth brushing your bottom lip. Billy clears his throat, and she leans back, waving him off.

“I’m serious,” she says, still inches from your face, “text me.”

You smile, “You couldn't keep me from it if you tried.” You peek over her shoulder at Billy and Phil, “Not even your personal beefcakes could stop me.”

Billy barks out a laugh at you shaking his head. Jenna laughs, too, rolling her eyes. 

“Next date is on me. I’ll see you soon.” She blows you a kiss and walks off, disappearing into the crowded sidewalk.

[deep-fried-egg]

(I am deep-fried-egg. I am not stealing fics.)

Full throttle

Warnings: inaccurate explanation of illegal street racing, g!p, lesbians

Smut below this shit 👇👇👇

Tara is an illegal street racer. is she ashamed? not at all. she's proud of herself! she's the most famous street racer in all of New York. anyone can recognize that powder blue 1976 AMC racer from miles away. and everyone knows it's her because of how beat up it is.

Now y/n is her nemesis. Tara has never been able to beat y/n in a race and has made it her life mission for the past 3 years.

Y/n is the only person Tara can't beat actually. somehow Tara constantly fucking loses against her. Tara doesn't give up though.

This time Tara got a little distracted per se during this race and here's why:

"Why do you keep racing me, Tara? It's not like you ever win!" Y/n yelled from where she was sitting in the car next to Tara who looked like she was making a plan on how to win the world cup.

Tara rolled her eyes at y/n's statement and just said. "Because I can" with so much confidence in herself. Y/n smirked slightly at Tara but then just said "Well you're going to need to be faster Tara if you're going to win." which honestly pissed Tara off because she could still win if she wanted to.

Y/n just shook her head at Tara's stubbornness and went back to looking through her phone while waiting for Tara to get ready. Tara looked over at y/n who seemed to be scrolling through Tumblr or something. Y/n had this thing for Tumblr. Kind of weird but who cares.

"Alright, I'm ready." Tara smacked the roof of y/n's cat before getting into her own. y/n smiled at Tara who gave her the middle finger back before driving off towards their first race. which was about a mile away.

before they knew it the race was starting and they had to rev their engines before starting. just to show off a little. Tara immediately went full speed as soon as she could go. She made sure to never hit the brake pedal to keep her pace up. she felt the rush. the adrenaline coursing through her body. She loved doing this. speeding her car down an empty street. racing her biggest enemy. the one girl she was determined to win against.

Tara's heart began pounding and her breathing quickened as she approached closer and closer to the finish line. As soon as her mind started focusing on the win she was about to have under her belt she looked outside the passenger's window (big mistake) and saw y/n lift her shirt and bra to flash Tara which caused Tara to rapidly lose speed and y/n ended up winning the race yet again.

Tara started spacing off as she could feel her cock start getting erect at the thought of seeing y/n's tits again. She couldn't help it really, y/n was just irresistible.

the moment Tara stepped out of her car she stormed towards y/n and pushed her front onto the roof of her car. "that wasn't fucking fair y/n." She hissed into the h/c girl's ear as she gripped her hips tightly. y/n let out a small gasp as she could feel Tara's dick pressing up against her thigh.

"you cheated." Tara continued pushing into her and letting her hands slide under the hem of y/ns shirt so she could trace over the smooth skin of y/ns stomach. y/n squirmed at Tara's touch. "you cheated." Tara repeated as she bit his shoulder and then made a suggestion.

"we should move this into MY car. I want to feel like a winner." Tara suggested with a sly smile causing a shiver to run down y/n's spine. y/n nodded and allowed Tara to pull y/n towards her car so she could open the door to the backseats and fucking ruin her.

Tara struggled to open the back door because there was a large dent near the handle which made it difficult to open the door. y/n giggled at Tara's struggle before opening the door herself with no problems.

Tara rolled her eyes before climbing into the backseat with y/n following shortly afterward. y/n shut the door to the backseat firmly before she turned her head to look at Tara.

Tara pushed y/n down so she could straddle her thighs. Tara then lifted y/n's shirt and gently bit the skin of y/ns shoulder.

"Tell me I'm a better racer or I'm not fucking you." Tara whispered in y/ns ear and y/n swallowed hard before saying, "y - yeah you are! you're a better racer than me!" Tara grinned at y/n response. y/n's voice cracked when she said that and Tara smiled even more before biting Y/n's collarbone.

Tara unhooked y/n's bra before she saw those beautiful breasts and she almost moaned at the sight.

"Fuck. I've been wanting to do this." Tara murmured against y/n's neck. Tara felt her goblin instincts take over and she quickly rid both herself and Y/n of the rest of their clothes before settling between Y/n's legs.

y/n gasped at Tara's sudden movements as she felt Tara position herself and push in without thinking.

"fuck.." Tara mumbled as she started thrusting inside y/n. Tara didn't know where her self-control went. every part of her body ached for this woman. she only wanted to fuck her, to take her all night long.

but y/n doesn't deserve it. not after all of that winning she's been doing! Tara thought bitterly as she continued to thrust into y/n harder and harder. She groaned at the thought of how badly she wanted to make y/n cry out in pleasure. to beg for her release. to scream out her name. but she kept quiet and didn't say anything instead continuing to pound into y/n mercilessly.

Tara reached down to grab y/n's hips so she can thrust in a little easier. y/n wrapped her legs around Tara's waist in response.

"fucking hell Tara! I - oh fuck!" Tara watched as y/n arched her back in ecstasy. the sound of y/n's moans, her breathy whimpers, made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling. but it also made her feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

she wanted to hear y/n scream like this again and again. to hear her beg for her to take her. to taste her. to feel her. Tara wanted y/n to forget everything and just come undone beneath her. Tara wants y/n to give her what she needs. Tara thrusts a few more times before she cums deep inside y/n. Tara kept on thrusting though, even if she was getting overstimulated.

"o-oh fuck Tara! I'm going to cum!" Tara suddenly pulled out of y/n before she could cum which made y/n whine in disappointment.

"oh my god, y/n don't be such a baby. I'll let you cum at some point! I just need to teach you a little lesson." Tara told y/n who just rolled her eyes at Tara's words and pouted. "I hate you." y/n said as she crossed her arms against her chest and glared at Tara who just chuckled lightly at y/n's reaction.

"no, you don't," Tara said before slipping back inside of y/n once again. Y/n was panting now which Tara took great pleasure in. Y/n grabbed Tara's hair and buried her face into Tara's neck. Tara felt satisfied hearing y/n whimper her name and she smirked at the sound.

"Tara please...please! I need you to make me cum." Y/n pleaded desperately which caused Tara to roll her eyes at y/n's words and started moving in and out of y/n slowly while listening to her cries of satisfaction. Tara knew that she was getting close to her climax. Tara could practically see y/n coming apart underneath her. "god! You're killing me, Tara..." Y/n breathed out, "Come on! I'm so fucking close!"

Tara just laughed at y/n's desperate pleas. "you're so cute when you're needy, y/n." Tara said teasingly and Y/n just growled lowly as she tried to move herself on Tara's throbbing cock. Tara pulled out once again since she didn't want y/n to cum too soon.y/n was panting heavily by now and Tara couldn't help the grin from forming on her lips.

"you are SO fucked up." Y/n growled angrily at Tara.

"maybe. but you should have thought about that before you made me lose the fucking race. now get out of my car and go home."

"but I didn't even-"

"no buts. I would have won if you didn't flash me y/n." Tara stated as y/n climbed out of the car. "don't think I won't do this again if you make me lose another race."

[streaminn]

Enid says that she's holding Phoebe's hand to make sure she doesn't try to steal. Phoebe knows otherwise :)

also did the pic posted imply that enid steals phoebe's sweets? yesser! anyways, i think they're cute and i love my crack ships

yes, pheobe is the one who posted and made the caption too

[slvt4lanadelrey]

Prom Queen | part two | Lorraine Day |

Warnings: Nick.

Part one | Prom Queen

Kissing Lorraine was like kissing a sugar cube, it was sickly sweet. With the most innocent of touches, the purest of words you were hooked; and she was fleeting. The kiss was sweet, something that played like a broken record in your head each second of the day. You would be helping your mother, something to do with your soon to be sister in law's wedding and the strong aroma of vanilla would invade your scenes; deteriorating you from your work. You would be knocked back into the music room, Lorraine feverish lips locked on yours.

A smile wormed its way on your face, sweet like cinnamon; she was a dream, a vitamin that helped your body.

"What's got you all merry?" Your mother asked, smiling with a cigarette between her lips. You shrugged, face blazing a deep crimson. How could you explain how your heart pumped for a girl, someone who would sneak into your heart each night to whisper promises that they made sure to keep like a vow. Lorraine, Lorraine Day was the one who made you so merry; you were a fool, a dumb and inlove girl for someone they couldn't have, how cliche of you.

"I know that look, pumpkin, you're in love." Your heart sank, feeling a bead of sweat dripping down your neck. You gulped, shuffling to avoid eye contact with the siren that lured you in with her warm voice.

She was your mom, the woman who gave birth to you and even if she didn't always show it in the way you'd like; she loved you, and would do everything in her power to protect her own.

"Come on, Y/N, is it Nick?" Your teeth dug into the tender flesh, pressing down until the layer of skin pulsated around your canines.

"No." You shamefully mumbled, blood running through your body like a sizzling fire. Gasoline dribbling throughout your system, then you threw a match stick and watched as everything was set aflame.

Your eyes sparkled, immediately thinking about the brunette that held your heart in such a way you weren't sure whether God did exist, how could such a creature with so much power and love to give out; condemn you and Lorraine into a path full of half sided, secret, unsure love. A fight worthy of war, the ongoing argument between people that slowly crept into society; you loved a girl, and there wasn't a single slither of shame in your body when it came to admitting such a fondness towards Lorraine, but to other people? You were a nervous wreck, constantly on the edge of insanity at the thought of someone knowing your heart.

"No? Then who is it, I ain't heard nothin' about another boy." She plucked the cigarette from her lips, milky smoke gasping into the air; filtering around her head like the sunlight that shun upon her. Her eyes landed on yours, searching for something that ticked you.

"It's not a boy." Your face drained of colour, a cold flush washing through your body at a speed that sent you shivering. Your hand reached out, sliding into your pockets.

"It's about a girl?" Your mother tilted her head, leaning her face into the open window to let out the smoke. She thought for a moment, breathing into the fogged window.

"You don't like Nick?" She asked, not once accusing you of something so vial, so sinful. Realisation drew on her face, her features relaxing when she glanced back at you again.

"Hope she's worth it." Was all your mother said before flicking her cigarette out the open window, she took a moment to look you back in the eyes.

"Don't get yourself killed, Y/N. I won't bury my youngest daughter for something as foolish of loving who she wants." Your mouth dropped, hands reaching out to grab ahold of her. When your digits wrapped around her wrist, tugging her into your grasp she looked at you with wide eyes.

"You don't care? You don't care that I'm not…I'm not something you thought I was?" Fear crept, slowly dragging its finger across the torn wallpaper, whispering sickly through the thick atmosphere of fearful thoughts. You're not good enough, the voice of reason screamed at you, howling through your prison like mind.

"Why would I care? I married someone who never loved me, you love someone so much you are honestly willing to stand up to a town full of bigots. I'm proud if anything." She cupped your cheek, wiping away the single fallen trickle of tears.

"You've always been brave, pumpkin."

You didn't move, not when she left, not when other people filtered through your house, not when your brother called. You were stuck in time, permanently stuck in a state of shock.

Your head was tilted backwards, the grasp of an unknown presence pouring molten lava into your locked shut jaw. It sizzled, blistered and ultimately left you unable to ever open your mouth.

Then, you were being pushed over. Your head rested into the small wooden gap, big enough for someone's head. A man, much taller and stronger than you walked over and slammed their axe into your neck with a clean slide.

The result of loving someone, I guess.

"Are you okay?" Leon nudged you, flicking a piece of food from his plate at you. Your glossy eyes flooded with sorrow squinted before landing on the boy in question.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" And just like that you were pushed into a brain-numbing conversation about marriage. Your mother would shoot you glances, each time your father and older sister would mention Nick.

Relaxation wrapped around your body like a warm blanket. Lorraine was standing in front of you, smiling like you were the only painting ever worth watching. Her dimples hollowed on her cheek, talking to someone next to her with a song worthy voice; silky soft, plush for the damaged ears.

She was a melody, a symphony that only you were able to listen to. Just like how birds chirping in the morning lust would lull you awake, already smiling for the day; Lorraine had that same affect, the same way to hush your body into a sense of comfort that ultimately caused ruffles within your picture perfect family.

Like a broken record, Lorraine didn't fit into your Palace of perfection, she was a distraction; chaotic one at best. She made you yearn for more, she made you seek a better life; one only she could provide.

Whereas, Nick was willing to settle. He'd probably buy a sweet little ranch, one nice enough to raise a family but one slow enough that it wouldn't cause too much distraction.

Torn, like a tug of rope, you were stuck. Love never doubted your mind, never once had you questioned the undeniable love and the way you were positively smitten for Lorraine. Never once had Nick made your heart skip, not with his blue eyes, chiselled jawline, not even with his jock-like ways: which had the rest of the girls swooning, dropping their panties within moments.

No. Nick wasn't your thing, he wasn't your taste, certainly not your liking. All of that love, bitter sweet devotion was all dedicated to one person; Lorraine Day, herself.

"Are you ready?" She offered her smile at you, hands wrapping around her backpack straps. She rocked on her heels, like she was scared you'd deny her. You had planned to meet up with her before the long weekend, a weekend your family had dedicated to getting to know Nick on a more…family level.

Just like every affair, every plaguing secret that would turn even the purests of air toxic within a single breath. Lorraine had been captured, sucking the life out of you with each love sick words she'd praise into your ear. Whilst Lorraine enjoyed every moment of your time together, knowing it had an expiry date, she was at peace with pressing feather light kisses along your cheek. You on the other hand was seething, jaw turning inflexible at the thoughts that somehow tainted your mind even though Lorraine was all over you.

Lorraine pressed her lips down on yours, her hands gripping so tightly around your waist. She didn't care, she didn't mind that you'd never be able to call her yours in public, that the claim over who you deserved; who you belonged to will always be held with Nick's name. You were there, she was pressed into yours; everything was fine, especially when you let out a small whimper at her brutal force.

You didn't hold the same sentiment. You hated it, it left a permanent tang on your tongue each time you were forced to remember Nick. It ached to kiss Lorraine, it left a yearning feeling in your heart when you'd call out for her and she wasn't able to answer. You were friends in public, and devoted lovers in private; but that would never satisfy your needs, I'd never clench the thirst you'd have for Lorraine each time you would lay your eyes on her. A drug, a small trickle of nectar that trailed down your throat whenever she'd whisper your name.

Mine, it repeated in your head. You were selfish, famously so. You had a boyfriend, one that wasn't that bad in reality; he listened when you said no, bought you gifts, sent flowers if you were unwell. But Lorraine would travel through trenches in order to see you, she would buy every florist out if that meant any health would be regained in your body, she would forget about the baggage you carried on the daily; all in order to be able to love you, small love, quiet and devoted love. Pure and honest, love and enchantment.

"I love you" no amount of words would cover up the sin, the blinding fact that suffocates your thoughts. Nick was expecting you in less than half an hour, he would want to hold your hand and hear the words you had solely promised Lorraine you'd only tell her.

It made you sick, how could you possibly love someone when you knew you were causing them pain?

Lorraine wasn't like other people, she was patient, more than okay with waiting. You were the problem, like every other situation; you weren't happy, so you had to isolate yourself.

"What's wrong? You've gone stiff on me, again." Lorraine mumbled, her lips never parting away from your skin, so when she talked it vibrated against your flesh. You chuckled at the feeling, wiping away the salivate trail across your neck.

"I have to go." You mumbled into the kiss, parting it with a slight whine. She was just too comforting, a memory of a teddy you slept with throughout your earlier years in life. She smiled, nuzzling her head into your shoulder.

"I'll miss you, try and have fun." She was perfect, the actual oxygen you breathed in everyday.

Even though you were about to spend three tortuous days with Nick; someone she hated. Lorraine was still encouraging you to have fun, enjoy the weekend she knew you two weren't able to have together.

Part of her happy mood was that she got to see you before you left, that you promised that when you were going to be laying beside Nick you would be thinking about Lorraine; and secretly dreaming about how good she kissed.

"I can't let you go." You declared, clinging onto the girl with all your might. Your eyes wandering into hers, the silky liquid gold pouring down on you. She was heaven, so nicely wrapped up in a small frame with big brown eyes you're fortunate to look into most days.

"It's just three days." She tried to pry your arms off her, wiggling out of your grasp was harder than it appeared.

"It's 72 hours, how tortuous." She giggled, once again connecting your lips.

"Indeed."

"I'll miss you" like a parrot you repeated your words, fingers still locked with hers.

"I love you." She muffled her words, lips once again meeting yours with a quick haste.

She loved you and as God witnessed, you loved her just as much.