I hope you guys enjoy my bubbeline fanfiction; it's a bit unconventional, and a bit darker, but I hope you enjoy it regardless ^^ review if you would like.
I slammed her up against the wall, and forced my lips on hers in the pitch blackness. She moaned loudly, her hands flying up to thread through my hair. She yanked on the long, black waves. My tongue twined with hers in a battle of dominance. My thin fingers grasped her hands, and I pinned them on either side of her.
Her back arched. Her breasts brushed mine. I bit her lip. She dug her nails into my palms.
It was rough and it was violent, it was painful and it was delicious. I felt every fucking bite and scratch like a confession of her undying love. She was my girl, and I was her girl; in the dark hallways and the locked, scary closets, we were infinity.
She ran her tongue across my mouth, and I chuckled deep and throaty. She dragged her lips to my ear, and tugged on my earlobe with her sharp teeth before purring, "I love your voice. It's as rough as the cigarettes you won't stop smoking."
"Bitch," I murmured, twisting her wrists tighter in my grip, "you love the taste of Fucked Up on my tongue."
In the darkness, I felt her lips curl against my neck. Her mouth, on the other hand, tasted like the Double Bubble she always chewed nervously; whenever I kissed her, I got a sugar rush that lasted hours after we parted.
I don't know when I had let her hands go, but I felt the cool cement of the garage wall against my back, through my leather jacket, as she pushed me oh so sweetly. She drifted her hands down my stomach, playing my ribs like an xylophone. Her hands played along the hem of my jeans, dragging her long fingernail on the sensitive skin at the hollow of my hipbone. My breath hitched.
Suddenly she turned me and guided me backwards in the darkness. I felt the grill of my mustang hit the back of my knees, and she shoved me so I was laying on the frozen hood. She hopped up and straddled my legs, hitching up her skirt so she sat right on my hips. I rolled them upwards, and she growled. I felt a growing wetness between my thighs. My heart beat like a bass drum.
Harder, harder, harder. Louder, louder, louder.
I pulled off her lace top, and ghosted my hands over her bra. I pinched her nipples through the thin fabric, and she ground her hips on mine in retaliation with a purr. We continued like this, a battle of wills veiled behind the black smoke of lust. In these shadowy, stolen moments, passion was power, and I always wanted the upper hand. The pain of hiding who we were was pushed away to the dark corners, and in each other, we found sick asylum.
She pulled off my jeans, and they fell in a heap on the dirty floor. She teased me through my panties, and I moaned. She seductively pulled them down, dragging her nails down my thighs as she did so.
They joined my pants.
With a smile, she bent her head down between my legs, and licked.
I screamed.
She grinned.
I rocked my hips up feverishly, desperately craving what she was giving me. She was cocaine, and I was the pathetic junkie who can never have enough. It was like a role play that never ended, and there was no escape.
She teased my clit with her silver tongue, and without warning, plunged a long finger inside me. I mewled as she hooked that finger up, hitting that rough place which makes my stomach twist and tighten to the point of pain.
I felt her smile.
I spread my thighs wider with a whine.
She licked harder.
I arched my back and screamed soundlessly.
Finally, the rope in my lower belly snapped, and I gripped the slick hood desperately, shoving my hips towards her mouth as I felt wave after wave of pleasure. She didn't relent in her ministrations as I clamped down on her wicked finger in the midst of my orgasm.
I laid there, panting loudly, as she slid up to lay beside me. She absently traced the tattoos on my stomach, and her sugared breath ghosted across my pale skin. My shirt had ridden up along the way, and I slowly felt the coolness of the leather on my spine.
She started to get up, but with my remained energy, I rose up and pounced on her. She fell back on the hood with a hollow thump. I could barely see her hair fanned out on the metal, shining like a cotton candy halo. I hated this part; the part where I would have to let her go soon, so we could go back to the fucking cruel world out there. The world with its bright sun and its shiny people, no dark corners, no whispers in the heavy night. No passion. No power. Only the sneers of society and the solace I find in nicotine, and she finds in pretty jewelry and sweets.
I didn't want to let her lovely smile go yet. I didn't want to leave the shadows till the light found us and forced us.
So I scooped up her head with one hand, and leaned down to bury my nose in her hair, which smelled like expensive perfume. I scratched her scalp, and rasped softly in her ear.
"Your turn."
