#how the fuck do u render curtains and fabric help

[teethcritter]

anothr...

[artificialqueens]

turn my touches into neon light (Vanessa x Monique) - Ortega

a/n: i quite simply have no excuse for this, quarantine is clearly making mincemeat of my head and i just don’t give a shit about what i submit anymore, apparently? this is part of the n19f verse and is set in between chapters 16 and 17 but it can be read standalone, there’s nothing really essential to the plot here. the title’s from Bitches (Remix) by Tove Lo bc it was the catalyst to my bisexual awakening xo. anyway if u liked this pls let me know bc this genre is not my strong suit and i would love a crumb of Believing In Myself. (smut. it’s smut.)

summary: Vanessa’s still reeling from Brooke breaking things off with her and she’s not over her yet. Monique is willing to be everything she needs in the meantime.

***

The fairy lights strung up in Monique’s room are soft and warm, her heavy red curtains drawn and shutting all the light out, not as if there’s much light to be let in in the first place. The small black alarm clock on her wooden IKEA bedside table reads 21.24, and Vanessa only arrived a few moments ago from the library after getting a message from Monique saying she’d just bought some good wine that was on offer and she had nobody to drink it with. Vanessa suspects this is a white lie- even though Cracker is out on a date with that Kameron girl she’s seeing and Monet is obviously round at Nina’s (and Brooke’s, she reminds herself with a stab to her heart), Bob’s still in and she could quite easily have shared the wine with her. But then again, Vanessa thinks, biting back a smile, Monique doesn’t have the same relationship with her flatmate as she does with Vanessa.

“Two glasses! I should’ve just brought two straws, but we can at least pretend we’re classy,” Monique announces, almost booting the door off its hinges as she stumbles into her bedroom holding two wine glasses in one hand, a corkscrew in the other, and balancing a bottle of red very precariously in the crook of her elbow. Vanessa laughs, a little thrill running down her spine as Monique’s brilliant white smile gets flashed her way. Her hair’s orange today, a bouncy slick of wavy flames that Vanessa already can’t wait to tear her fingers through, and her eyelids are covered in glitter that’s making her brown eyes sparkle even more than they normally do.

Vanessa watches as Monique launches herself down on the bed beside her, giving scant regard for the glasses in her hand. She places them onto the duvet then begins driving the corkscrew into the top of the bottle.

“Oh shit, this bitch has a cork! We are so classy this evening,” Vanessa murmurs her approval, Monique smiling smugly beside her.

“Bitch, I told you it was good wine! You ain’t believe me or somethin’?” she narrows her eyes, Vanessa protesting with a laugh. Monique gives a little satisfied cry of delight as the cork pops out of the bottle. She snatches up one of the glasses and sloshes the crimson liquid into it, so thick and red that they may as well be drinking blood. Vanessa smiles shyly as Monique passes the glass to her, thanking her as she takes a small sip. This is nice. The wine, the curtains, the twinkling lights. It’s the nicest non-date that Vanessa’s been on in a while.

“See I might be a hoe, but I can be a lady when I want to be,” Monique shrugs lightly as she swirls her own wine around in its glass before taking a long drink. Vanessa lets out a derisive snort.

“You’re not a hoe, shut up.”

Monique fixes Vanessa with a look that makes her melt a little bit. “Bitch, if you don’t think I’m a hoe by now then I’m clearly not doing my job right.”

Vanessa feels herself blushing. It’s out of character for her. She’s so used to being the one with the upper hand, the confident one who knows she can make girls do anything she wants. That’s what she was with Brooke Lynn, anyway. But Monique has this intoxicating mystery to her that keeps Vanessa on her toes, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy not being the one calling the shots all the time. Vanessa can’t help but flirt back a little. “Oh, so what is your job?"

"Making you forget about your bitch-ass ex girlfriend?” Monique gestures as if it’s obvious. Vanessa feels another small stab to her gut.

“She wasn’t a bitch, don’t be mean! She just…wanted something else,” she explains, sipping her wine again. She feels her heartbeat accelerate when Monique rests a hand on her thigh.

“Okay, how ‘bout I call her…weird? ‘Cuz if she didn’t want you then that’s weird behaviour,” Monique says matter-of-factly. Vanessa smiles bashfully. She likes being flattered like this, likes being told things she hasn’t heard in a while. Monique brings out a coy, demure side to Vanessa that very rarely gets seen. She is so used to being outspoken, loud, confident, on transmit constantly.

“You can call her weird, then,” Vanessa murmurs, her pitch low as Monique traces patterns across her skin. Vanessa is glad she wore the outfit she did to the library- short denim skirt, oversized red jumper tucked into the waistband of it. Briefly, it flashes through her mind to wonder what underwear she put on this morning. It’s not like her and Monique are together- far from it, they are the definition of friends with benefits- but if the girl’s going to make her come, the least she can do is look presentable for her.

“’M glad you came round,” Monique says quietly, leaning against her purple headboard. Her hair is a shock of orange against the violet fabric. The admission is too soft, hits too close to home. Vanessa doesn’t know if she likes it or if it breaks her heart a bit. It sounds too much like being wanted.

“You would’ve found someone else to sink this with. Bob’s in, isn’t she?” Vanessa argues, unable to accept the compliment.

Monique shrugs her disagreement, her fingers gentle against Vanessa’s skin. “She ain’t Vanessa, though.”

She feels something in her body fizz when she hears Monique say her name; the little lilt to her voice and the way she drags it out like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. Vanessa gives a small shiver as she feels a throb between her legs. She shoots Monique a little smirk. “Stop flirting, bitch.”

Monique shuffles closer, a satisfied look on her face that makes Vanessa feel like a fly caught in a web in the best way possible. “If a cute girl’s in my bed, I’m gonna flirt with her. Sorry. Just facts."

Vanessa wants to reach out and touch Monique, wants her hands all over her body like the other night. Monique’s very experienced, something else that renders Vanessa speechless whenever they sleep with each other. Tentatively, Vanessa replaces her wine glass on one of the bedside tables and rests her free hand on Monique’s hip. The black leggings she’s wearing don’t leave a huge amount to the imagination. Monique senses her hesitation and pouts at her mock-sympathetically. "You know you can touch if you want to, baby.”

Vanessa lets out a little sigh at the pet name, which in turn makes something flash in Monique’s eyes and she goes from stroking the outside of Vanessa’s thigh to the soft skin on the inside. Vanessa wordlessly spreads her legs, the heat between them almost unbearable, and she wonders how Monique can make her so desperate to be touched in so few words and tracings against her skin.

“You’re so easy, Jesus,” Monique teases, and Vanessa is aching to kiss the smirk off her face but loves the anticipation too much to burst the bubble yet.

“You love it,” she bites back quietly, snaking a hand underneath Monique’s cropped t shirt to stroke along her spine. She’s rewarded by Monique throwing one leg over the other, her eyes dark as she looks at her. Monique places her own glass on her bedside table, Vanessa giving a little laugh. “Shit, how long did that last? Five minutes?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know exactly why I wanted you round,” Monique retorts. Her hand strokes a little higher. Vanessa bucks her hips a little and Monique gives a little appreciative hum. “Damn. You’re so needy.”

“Be less needy if you weren’t such a tease,” Vanessa is ready with her comeback, Monique biting her lip and smiling as the frustration starts to show a little in Vanessa’s voice.

“I’m not teasin’, you’re just impatient,” Monique shrugs, Vanessa almost crying out in desperation as she pulls away. She’s rewarded when Monique grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head to reveal a red lace bralet that Vanessa hasn’t seen her wear before. The colour pops against her dark skin and Vanessa is torn between not taking her eyes off her in it or trying to tear it off her. Monique sees her reaction and replaces her hand between her legs, Vanessa giving a little sigh of anticipation as she speaks. “You like this?”

Vanessa simply nods, too scared that if she replies she’ll end up begging Monique to touch her, so she bites her lip instead. Monique gives a little smirk, takes her hand away again and quickly rips off her leggings to reveal matching red underwear, the top of which curves upwards to expose her hipbones and sits high near her waist. The whole thing makes Vanessa feel like she’s having a heart attack; she can feel her pulse racing. Unable to help herself, Vanessa reaches out, loops a finger under the elastic of the waistband and uses it to pull Monique in to kiss her. When their lips touch, Vanessa has to stop herself from letting out a moan. Monique kisses slowly and unrelentingly, completely ignoring Vanessa’s attempts to speed things up, and when she slides her tongue over Vanessa’s it reminds her of what it can do. Everything is hot and wet and languid and Vanessa can feel herself getting worked up. At this rate it’s not going to take a lot for Monique to make her come apart.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Monique murmurs against her lips, and Vanessa whines like a brat as she tries to grind down against her fingers. Monique smiles smugly at the action, kissing her deeply. Vanessa runs a light hand up and down her back, letting her nails graze her skin slightly because she knows it drives Monique wild. As Monique hums her appreciation against her mouth, Vanessa can’t take it any longer and she throws a leg over Monique’s so that she’s straddling her. The sudden friction almost makes Vanessa’s eyes roll into the back of her head and judging by the expression on Monique’s face her reaction was well received. Vanessa bites back a whimper as Monique drops her lips down to her neck, kissing it slowly once and then a second time.

“You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ girl I’ve ever met, oh my God. I wish you could see yourself right now,” Monique whispers into her ear. Vanessa moans, can feel how wet she is through the fabric of her underwear against Monique’s bare skin, and she blushes as she realises she’s not going to last much longer if Monique keeps talking to her like this. As if she reads her mind, Monique keeps whispering. “I was so gutted when we met at that party because you were seeing that girl, and all I wanted to do was to get you into my room and make you beg for it…you were wearin’ that black satin body and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you for days…”

Vanessa tilts her head to meet Monique’s lips, brings her jaw up to kiss her messily. As if to fulfil the fantasy Monique’s just told her about, Vanessa breaks away and whispers frantically. “Please, babygirl, please, please, please.”

“What do you want, princess?”

Vanessa is close and the pet name isn’t helping. She lets out a gasp as she bucks her hips, realises Monique’s touching herself with her free hand while the other is ripping out the hem of Vanessa’s sweater where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “Keep talking, fuck.”

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look, baby? You want me to tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look gettin’ yourself off against my thigh like a desperate lil’ brat?” Monique taunts her, Vanessa giving a squeal as Monique dips her fingers under the cup of her bra and brushes her fingers against one of her nipples. “You’ve not even taken your clothes off and you’re this wound up, fuck, you’re so wet and I’ve not touched you…”

Vanessa’s senses are in overload. Her hair is all in her face, Monique’s still teasing her nipples, and she can feel herself slick against Monique’s skin as she grinds against her thigh. Her clit is throbbing so much she feels like she’s going to explode. “M'nique, I’m gonna…fuck…”

“Go, baby. Do it,” Monique whispers. Her voice is low and sinful and she’s barely whispered her permission before Vanessa is crying out embarrassingly loudly, completely unable to control herself but not able to bring herself to care as she gives another, slightly quieter cry then a tiny squeal as she feels herself shudder, coming down from the high. She’s blushing as she kisses Monique, the other girl smiling against her lips, and Vanessa realises she’s still touching herself. She leans back and smiles, gasping a little and trying to collect herself.

“Shit,” is the first thought she can verbalise, causing Monique to laugh out loud. “That escalated fast.”

Monique nods, smiling guiltily. Vanessa looks at her spread out on the bed; hand down her pants, chest rising and falling quickly, hair spread out against the pillow, and the sheen Vanessa left against her thigh. The sight is enough to make Vanessa run her tongue over her lips slightly.

“You still want me, baby?” she murmurs quietly, Monique pouting and nodding again, a little needy sigh escaping her full lips. Vanessa tugs her sweater over her head, pulls her skirt over her ankles and tosses it onto the floor. She sits up and pats her lap gently. “C'mere."

Monique obediently crawls over to her, sits on her lap and kisses her as Vanessa threads her hands through her long, orange hair.

It’s nice to feel wanted.