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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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Quinn Bailey Must Die

summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.

word count: 6.6k

a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))

Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass.

New York City is expensive.

College is expensive.

And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city.

So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces.

But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks.

First it was the dishes.

She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks.

A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major.

It had nothing on the men.

They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm.

Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men.

If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate).

But really, you’re not in the position to complain.

You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least.

Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign.

“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.”

“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.”

It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way.

“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.”

“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised.

Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless.

But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.

Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat.

Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring.

You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here.

“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.”

Tara’s tense against you.

Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?”

She leans back and lets out a loud laugh.

“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.”

And then it’s your turn to stare.

Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones.

Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes.

“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”

Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated.

Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour.

The conversation is over.

But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly, it’s the only thing you can think about.

“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later.

You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn.

Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered.

“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food.

Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard.

“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?”

Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.

“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.”

“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm.

“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.”

You furrow your brow.

“You think?”

“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?”

Chad looks over to her, a little owlish.

“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.”

Liv shoots him a look.

“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.”

Chad’s eyes widen.

“You said that was so you could beat your brother!”

Liv gives you a look.

“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.”

Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day.

Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits.

Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself.

You’re starting to see it.

Quinn liked her conquests.

Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara?

Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend.

Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play.

Truly the Mount Everest of conquests.

“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn.

She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago.

But it’s different now.

Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.”

You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear.

Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“Babe?” Tara prompts.

“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true.

You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder.

“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms.

She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point.

“And you hate gore movies.”

“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie.

Tara furrows her brow.

“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?”

You bite your lip.

Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her.

You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist.

“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?”

Tara frowns.

“No weirder than usual.”

“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.”

Tara shoots you a look.

“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.”

She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.”

It placates you for only a moment.

Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being.

It’s just…

Quinn is pretty. So pretty.

Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else?

And then the dread is back.

“It’s just… Liv said-“

Tara groans.

“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.”

“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed.

Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips.

“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.”

You do know that.

And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom.

Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to.

It doesn’t work.

Because of course, why would it work?

The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend.

It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described.

“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.”

Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way.

You fold your arms, unhappily.

“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.

“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”

“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.”

Tara draws back, clearing her throat.

“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.”

Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe.

You know better.

Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse.

“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”

Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent.

“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.”

“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”

Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.

“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”

“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara.

Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully.

“Sure.”

Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started.

Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored.

You’d been wrong.

If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more.

Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end.

So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst.

Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her.

Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her.

And those sometimes become all you can think about.

This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship.

Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do.

A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead.

A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches.

But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket.

“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos.

You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy.

“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?”

“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl.

“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.”

You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers.

“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant.

As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you.

You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat.

“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?”

Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy.

“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder.

You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening.

When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning.

Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend.

It has to stop.

The solution?

This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice.

Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.

You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol.

Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best.

And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it.

She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly.

She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth.

She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues.

It makes you stew.

It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.

It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment.

But you resist.

Let her think she’s winning.

It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet.

Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory.

Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction.

“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?”

Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand.

It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes.

Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep.

“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.”

Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed.

When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it.

“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates.

You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner.

Tara blinks over at her, a little confused.

“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop.

“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.”

Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.”

Quinn stares a moment.

“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.”

You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat.

“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.”

Tara peers over at you, a little confused.

Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it.

Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.

“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders.

You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers.

“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.”

She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering.

You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips.

Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy.

“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.”

Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing.

Bless her.

Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend.

You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“

“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.”

You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation.

When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes.

“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.”

Tara nods.

“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?”

Tara tilts her head.

“No.”

“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left.

Made sure you’d seen it.

Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”

She flexes her bicep.

“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly.

“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.”

Tara frowns.

“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed.

Then, she pouts.

“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.”

“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”

Tara frowns.

“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.”

You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate.

“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.”

Tara bites her lip.

“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”

She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face.

“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?”

Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later.

You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight.

You frown as Tara enters the room.

“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.”

“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist.

“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.”

You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?”

“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.”

She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss.

“I love you. Only you.”

True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn.

Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together.

The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim.

No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her.

“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.”

You sigh, unhappily.

“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.”

Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you.

“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.”

“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.”

Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.”

And so you do.

You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure.

When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door.

“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?”

You smile and kiss her.

“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.”

“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.”

“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly.

“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?”

“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.”

Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter.

“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers.

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.”

You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife.

Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again.

Quinn looks over, catching your eye.

As if she can tell you’re thinking about her.

And then, she smiles.

“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.”

She’s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait.

And you fall for it.

Hook, line and sinker.

You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red.

“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?”

Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking.

As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition.

In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair.

You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you.

“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-”

“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?”

“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!”

Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances.

You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her.

Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might.

“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?”

Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor.

“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.”

“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.”

“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.”

“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.”

“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage.

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Quinn blinks at her.

“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.”

And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it.

You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again.

“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.”

You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing, her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her.

Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens.

“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.”

She sounds sincere, but you see right through her.

“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?”

Quinn nods, solemnly.

“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.”

“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-”

Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo.

“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.”

You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features.

“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.”

Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing.

“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.”

“Baby-” Tara starts.

“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.”

Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss.

She’s trying to settle you down.

It works.

“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.”

“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“

Tara shushes you with another kiss.

Then she draws back, her voice soft.

“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.”

This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips.

“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.”

Sam might mind.

But it’s really the least of your worries.

“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest.

Tara squeezes your shoulders.

“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.”

She eyes you, warily.

“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.”

You frown.

“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders.

“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.”

But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone.

You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.

In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight.

She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout.

When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”

Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up.

You just want her gone.

And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.

You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump.

When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open.

And then you hear it.

A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities.

Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring.

Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick.

You know that grunt.

The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion.

Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it.

It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door.

But what you see isn’t what you expect.

You blink.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?”

Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out.

The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real.

But it’s very real.

Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does.

The sound of your voice is her escape.

Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble.

Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?”

“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.”

Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks.

“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.”

Quinn’s breathing heavily.

She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two.

“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.”

You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next.

“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.”

Quinn doesn’t move.

“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.”

Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you.

“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”

“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse.

She shoots you an angry glare.

“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.”

Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut.

Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her.

“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.”

“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.”

She’s quiet a moment.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.”

You sigh. Tilt your face to hers.

“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.”

Tara pouts.

“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…”

She looks up at her, eyes shimmering.

“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.”

“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest.

Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.”

“Oh.” You say with a frown.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.”

“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.”

Tara hums. She leans in close against you.

“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.”

Tara wrinkles her nose.

You laugh.

Lean down to kiss her, deep.

Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think.

You hope she enjoyed her little game.

Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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JENNA ORTEGA Dior Rose Des Vents campaign (September 2023)

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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my favourite sisters.

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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I JUST CAME HOME TO SEE THIS!!! 😭😭😭

#500 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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Fansexual

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Reader

Content: 18+ Content, blowjob/handjob, Sex, G!P Jenna Ortega, Smut, Gentle and rough sex

Requested by: @lalalalalal011010

Summary: Jenna is intrigued by a fan so she goes and talks to them. That's when you go to hers to hangout, however she always goes to the bathroom before hand... one day you get curious.

WC: 1700

It was the premiere for Scream 6, and Jenna was nervous so to say. She knew something would go on during the night, but she wasn’t sure just yet. Currently she was walking with Jasmin and Melissa as she was ranting about one of her incidents from the day. That was until they arrived at the premiere, as she was looking around everywhere. Lightening up, she was able to take a breather… until she saw a certain someone in the crowd that she admitted she was attracted to.

She just couldn’t resist as she sneakily walked away from everything, looking for you. You meanwhile was going over to the side to take a breather from everyone. It was too crowded and loud for your liking, but you was just happy to see all of your favourite actors. As you was about to enter the crowd, you saw your all time favourite walking somewhere. Wait, no. Towards YOU. You was shocked as she stopped in front of you. “Hi. I couldn’t help but say hi to you. What is your name if I can ask?” she asked with a small, genuine smile.

“My name is Y/N,” was your quick response, flustered by her talking to you of all people.

“You probably know already but my name is Jenna. Talk more?” she asked as she knew she had to go back now. You nodded.

This started your friendship of close to a year now. 3 months into it she started to invite you to her house. You also had gained a bit of hate from toxic fans when you was caught with her at a restaurant, which she profusely apologised for. You had reassured her that she didn’t have to though, and you was ok being seen with her. 6 months into the friendship and Jenna came around to your house. It had been close to 7 months of friendship now, and you was going over to Jenna’s house for your weekly movie night. This week it was ‘Evil Dead Rise’ and you was excited.

Eventually, you arrived and was going over to the door about to knock when Jenna opened it up. “Hey,” she spoke casually, discreetly looking you up and down. “I’m going to the bathroom before the film. You can set it up if you want?” Jenna offered, waiting for your usual nod before she ran over to the bathroom. You proceeded to ignore it, always curious why she didn’t go to the bathroom until you arrived. You got the film ready nonetheless, checking the time. It had only been 2 minutes, and you was about to scroll on your phone when you heard a small groan in the closest bathroom. Concerned, you immediately got up and wandered over to the bathroom.

“Are you ok?” You asked, knocking on the door when it opened by accident. You didn’t expect that and had a full view of Jenna. You glanced down and that’s when you saw it… a dick.

“Sorry. D-didn’t expect the door to open, I will just…” you spoke about to leave embarrassed before it hit you. “Do you masturbate every time I visit? Like, at the start?” you asked, Jenna stood in shock before she sighed with a blush and nodded.

“Yeah, I do. I… kinda was attracted when we first met and so I went over and started to talk to with you,” Jenna admitted, still masturbating as she was moaning. You couldn’t help but bite your lip. “Want any help?” You boldly asked, curious about her dick admittedly. Jenna blinked before she smirked.

“You want to suck my dick hm?” she teased you, as you was the one now flustered. You was gaping your mouth like a fish before Jenna stepped closer and pinned you against the wall. You blushed hard, before nodding as you slowly dropped down, Jenna watching with her eyes filled with lust. Slowly but surely you took her dick into your hand, stroking it first before you was sucking the tip, making eye contact, looking as innocent as possible. Jenna let out a small gasp before she suddenly grabbed your hair and forced you deeper down her dick. You gagged at first before adjusting while sucking more, stroking whatever else you couldn’t suck.

Jenna let out low moans as she was sucked off, grasping at your hair. She soon pulled her head back and was letting out slight moan as her eyes closed. You kept sucking as you was wanting to plesure her, she deserved it. Plus, you had offerened and your crush on her had grown since you met her. “You are so good,” Jenna finally spoke as she was still moaning, amd was starting to pull your head closer. “I don’t usually get close this fast. Your mouth does wonders, I wonder how your pussy will feel around me,” she groaned out loudly as she was starting to hump your mouth. You kept your hand around her shaft as she thrusted, making sure she was having as much pleasure as possible.

Soon you felt something enter your mouth which shocked you before you was swallowing as much as possible. She was cumming without warning which led you to choke a bit but you was managing it quite well considering the surprise. She rubbed your head, praising you with a, “Good girl.” You let out a whimper of delight before she started to pull away and picked you up. You held onto her, surprised by her strength before you realised you was in her bedroom. “Do you want to do this?” Jenna asked, wanting your full consent before you did anything.

You was nodding. “Please, I need you Jenna,” you moaned out loudly as you was drenched. You could feel your underwear pressed against you. “Good girl,” Jenna spoke with a smirk and was starting to tug off her trousers and boxers fully. “You strip fully before me,” Jenna growled out to which you was nodding and was quick to strip. You were thankful you put some easy clothes to take off on and was also glad you didn’t put a bra on. Jenna licked her lips before she fully stripped down herself, sitting next to you. “Let me get you ready for my dick baby girl,” she spoke, slowly running her fingers from your inner thighs to your pussy. Moaning, you nodded and opened your legs further open.

Finding the position awkward, Jenna went between your legs to get more comfortable. She smirked when she realised she could see her finger enter into you. Innocently, she looked up before she entered a finger in. You let out a gasp of pleasure and bucked your hips. “Fuck Jenna, please, just get me ready for your dick,” you whined out needily. Jenna nodded as if to comply, slowly thrusting her finger in.

“I am. Just taking my time love, don’t want to hurt you, do I?” she asked cockily. You hesitated but nodded as you but your lip and was letting her enter a second finger soon. You was gasping out loud from the pleasure, Jenna looking up eagerly as she then entered a third one quickly, fully stretching you out.

After a few minutes, she pulled them out, and climbed up your body. “Ready?” She asked you. You nodded, about to speak when she kissed you suddenly. You squeaked in shock before you felt her enter. It wasn’t as painful due to the shock of her kissing you suddenly at least. You held onto her sides as she was gently entering you, her hands groping at your chest as she was rubbing the nipples. You were breathing harder as she was soon fully inside. “Let me adjust real quick,” you warned, pulling away from the kiss. She was nodding.

“Of course babe. For someone who found out I just had a dick, you are doing well,” she smirked out, rubbing your hair before she was kissing you again. You kissed back even harder, before nodding, giving her permission to move.

She was quick to move, being gentle and slow while making sure you were ok. “You ok?” she moaned out gently, to which you were nodding. “Yes babe,” you groaned out in pleasure, she had sped up. She smirked as she was kissing your jaw to your neck. You were letting out low moans as she was marking up your neck, making them in very visible places. You didn’t even worry about that as you were more focused on the pleasure she was giving you. She was manhandling your breast with one hand, one trailing down again as she was keeping on top of you, marking your shoulders at this point. That’s when you got a sudden sensation, a louder moan coming out of your mouth. She was rubbing your clit with her thumb, and you felt the smirk she held against your shoulders as she marked you. You kept grasping her sides hard and was starting to open your legs wider for her. She went even rougher as she was being rough and fast with you now. You loved that admittedly as you were getting close quickly. Jenna took note of that and was going even faster with a smirk.

“Such a good girl, why don’t you cum for me, hm?” she asked. Immediately you came at her command as she grinned, wanting to pull out so she didn’t make you pregnant by accident. She did a few rough pounds before she pulled out and came on your thighs and stomach. You gasped at the sensation of it being on you and smiled lazily at her.

“I came for a movie. Instead I got a dicking down,” you joked and Jenna chuckled.

“Want some food and water now? I’ll bathe you after that then,” she asked, to which you nodded. “Please. Thank you for taking care of me,” you thanked her, happy to be cared for.

“It’s the least I can do, you can wipe down with a wet wipe for now by the way,” she spoke, throwing a pack at you gently. You smiled then wiped yourself down.

You wondered how often this was going to happen.

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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I dunno why I've been giggling at this for a bit. My humor is in need of repairs.

Blurriness makes me go brrr

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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jennaslittlesidepiece · 8 months

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Masterpiece

A/n: Sacrificed my sleep and sanity for this holyyy shit. Warnings: NSFW, smut, GAYS, Vada Cavell x reader, Vada Cavell x fem reader (implied no pronouns used), g!p Vada, slight oral R receiving, unprotected sex, drug use ______________________________________________________________

"Can I draw on you?" Vada asks looking up at you from her sprawled out position on your bed. Cocking your head to the side in confusion you bring your shared joint to your lips and take another drag.

"It's just, my hands are fidgety- and you have washable markers on your desk and I'm bored, are you bored? I really think that-" She cuts off her own incessant rambling, acutely aware of your ever growing annoyance.

You exhale deeply, the milky smoke furling in the air of your bedroom. Putting out the finished blunt, your eyes meet Vada's own hazy dilated ones and you lazily nod your head.

She quickly hops off of the bed, taking a moment to steady herself on her feet before hastily grabbing your markers. Joining you on the bed once more, Vada takes in your fully clothed figure.

"So are you gonna take off your shirt? Not that i'm asking to see you shirtless! I just- just need space to draw."

You roll your eyes, a smile toying at the corners of your lips. You take your shirt off, rolling over to lay on your stomach.

Vada hesitantly reaches her hand out, touching your back with the tips of her fingers. Her cheeks flush slightly, taking in the muscles of your back and the softness of your skin. You press your back into her touch, welcoming the warm feeling of her fingertips on your body.

"What are you gonna draw Vads?" you say softly, resting your chin on top of your folded arms.

"Just doodles." She responds before carefully moving to straddle the backs of your thighs.

You feel the tip of the marker skating across your back as Vada deftly moves her hand, drawing designs and patterns onto your exposed flesh. The marker tickles against your skin and has you giggling, shifting yourself closer to Vada. Your clothed ass makes contact with her pelvis and the action has your friend's eyes widening dramatically.

Distracting herself with the ink on your skin, she leans over you, getting a better angle to colour in one of her drawings. Shifting uncomfortably underneath your friend, you reach your hand back and press into the fabric of her shorts.

"Vada what the hell is in your pocket?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed as your hand moves curiously.

Your palm brushes against her concealed hard-on and the brunette instantly reels at the touch, pulling away from you and clambering off of your legs hurriedly. Turning over and propping yourself up on your elbows you look confusedly at the frantic girl. She stands awkwardly beside your bed with deep red cheeks and impossibly wide eyes.

Lowering your gaze you gawk at the obvious bulge in Vada's shorts. "Is that...?"

"Oh god" she mumbles out through her hands, peeking through her fingers to gauge your reaction.

"Can I...can I see it?" You say slowly, scared to alarm your friend any further.

"What?" she asks incredulously, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you.

"Your dick Vada, can I see it?"

Clearly unsuspecting of your blatant straightforwardness, Vada chokes on her saliva. Coughing for a few seconds as you watch her with a quirked brow. Once she catches her breath and realizes that you are in fact not joking, she moves to sit back on your bed. Shimmying out of her shorts and boxers, Vada's freed dick slaps against her shirt covered abdomen.

"Holy shit." You bite your lip, eyeing the now fully hardened length of your friend. "Vada can I-"

Before you can even finish your question, she shifts her hips up to your slightly outstretched hand. Slowly you wrap your hand around her erect cock. Swiping your thumb over the slit of her ruddy tip has Vada gasping loudly, pushing herself farther into your hand.

Stroking up and down her dick a few more times, you move your hand to rid yourself of your bra. Vada groans when you remove your hand but very quickly becomes ecstatic when she sees your naked chest. Swiftly ridding herself of her own shirt and bra, the brunette sits fully nude in front of you. Beckoning her over with a wave of your fingers, Vada sits patiently on her knees, waiting for permission between your legs. Threading a hand in her dark hair, you pull her over you. Catching herself with her arms and holding herself over you, Vada kisses you desperately. Detaching herself from your mouth to pepper kisses along your jaw and throat, she reaches down to touch your exposed chest. As one arm continues to hold herself above you, the other moves with the utmost efficiency, rubbing one of your nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The second you arch into her touch, Vada moves to sit back on her knees, fumbling with the button and zipper of your pants. Once your pants and underwear are finally discarded Vada wastes no time in burying her face in your wet heat. Slowly, she drags her tongue through your arousal-coated folds, and the moment her lips wrap around your clit, you're sure that you must already be embarrassingly close to cumming. Reluctantly, Vada pulls away and leans back over you. Looking back into your half-lidded eyes, she wavers, waiting for you to ensure that you want to be intimate with her. Once you nod your head, Vada eagerly thrusts inside of you. Waiting for you to adjust before slamming the rest of her length inside your awaiting cunt. "Fuckkk" She drawls out, sucking a sharp inhale through her teeth as she continues her fast pace. Ducking her head to lick and suck at your neck, Vada pounds into you harder, her cock dragging against your gummy walls with every thrust. You moan loudly, nails scratching angry red lines onto the tan skin of her back. Bringing a hand down to the junction where your hips meet, Vada presses her thumb harshly against your puffy clit, causing you to cry out and clench around her. Rubbing taut, fast circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you approach the brink of your orgasm rapidly. She feels you clench and tighten around her, reminding Vada all too well of her own impending orgasm. Moving faster as a means to sate her arousal. Feeling you cum around Vada's dick leaves the poor girl desperate for release, her mind clouded at the feeling of your wetness gushing around her painfully stiff cock. "Please can I cum inside? Fuck y/n, need to cum so so bad" She grunts out desperately. Vada can see your apprehension, your mouth opens then closes a few times, trying to contemplate her words before you speak your own. She's ready to pull out when you wrap your legs urgently and tightly around her waist, trapping the girl in place. Your heels dig into her back pressing Vada closer to you, as she bites your neck jerking her hips into you wildly.

Thick ropes of her cum are pumped inside of you as Vada's post orgasmic pace never falters. You shake slightly and Vada finally slows, carefully pulling out, afraid to inadvertently overstimulate you anymore than she already has. Slumping down beside you, Vada unsurprisingly starts rambling once again. "That was awesome. It was so good for me, was it good for you too? I mean obviously you came but-" "Vada." You interrupt sternly, cringing slightly at the harshness of your tone. "Yes it was good for me too." You say much more softly this time around, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She grins widely and you press a short kiss to her lips lovingly, Vada stares at you with adoration, her high faded long ago after the sobering effects of your rigorous fucking. Turning so that your back faces her, you pull Vada's arm across your body and feel her bury her face in your hair, pressing occasional kisses onto your scalp. Pulling away from your embrace ever so slightly, Vada traces over her drawings with featherlight touches. "What are you doing back there?" You question playfully, leaning back into her hands. "Admiring my masterpiece of course." She says now kissing your upper back and shoulders. "Take a picture of your drawings for me, I would love to see your 'masterpiece'."

"Wasn't talking about my drawings, silly." She says kissing up your neck and onto your cheek. You quickly realize what she's insinuating and you turn to face her, hiding your reddened face in the crook of her neck.

After an elongated moment of comfortable silence, you finally speak up... "You're paying for my morning-after pill."

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