A/N: A little Boo Boo Cookie ficlet.
There's a stark difference between fucking and making love. There's also a stark difference between platonic and romantic relationships. Lines are drawn.
Usually.
This is not the case for Anika Calhoun and Cookie Lyon.
For Anika, the line seems to blur between "Goddamnit...harder, Cookie," and "ahhhh, right there, baby...don't stop" as she's cumming into Cookie's mouth or with 1 or all of her fingers inside of her. Or when Cookie is spread before her like a good, good girl and waiting for Anika to let her cum. It's when the lines have blurred that Anika learns that though Cookie isn't one for bondage, orgasm delay and teasing work wonders.
Just like the lines blur between fucking and making love, the lines blur between their feelings for each other.
Anika's convinced Cookie hates her.
Usually.
Most of the time.
Some of the time.
At least, she'd be convinced that Cookie hates her if it weren't for for the way she drops to her knees in front of Anika and looks her in the eye right before she lifts one of Anika's thighs over her shoulder and commences to lose herself in her pussy.
The look Cookie gives her isn't one of contempt; it's not even smug. It's a look of pure desire and Anika holds her gaze for as long as she can before pleasure takes over and she's shaking to the point that her standing leg fails her and she slides down the wall and into a heap with Cookie beneath her. It takes a moment before she can get herself together, but she eventually rolls off of Cookie and onto her back. Cookie's up before she is and stands over her trying to look angry at Anika nearly taking her out. Death by pussy. Cookie doesn't look worse for wear, but then again, she wasn't the one who was just fucked senseless. Even so, Cookie bends down to help her up so they can move to the bed where they should've been in the first place.
Her body vibrates with anticipation as the line between fucking and making love becomes blurred, blurring the status of their relationship at the same time. It's just as well because Anika can't take Cookie seriously anymore when she attempts to put her down. She can't believe Cookie's words when she says things like "bitch, don't make me drag you down this hallway," when just the night before she was moaning her name and begging Anika to let her cum.
But then there are days when Cookie's words sting a little bit more than others and the lines become less blurred and whatever is growing between them begins to disintegrate. It doesn't help that Anika is just as ruthless with her words and it increases tenfold when she's hurt.
Though, like always, one of them will falter and Cookie will kiss her like hurtful words had never tumbled from their mouths. It's a song and dance they've been doing for a while now and she's been fucking Cookie long enough to know how Cookie feels about her.
She thinks.
Maybe.
Sometimes she picks up on the way Cookie feels about her in the little things she does. Like how Cookie never seems satisfied when she's between her legs and she's licking Anika until she sees stars. Or when Cookie pulls her against her and Anika thinks Cookie's going to make her scream only to melt in her arms while she drops kisses on her favorite places like her lips or a birthmark just beneath her right breast.
Perhaps it's in the moments when Cookie moans in satisfaction when Anika touches her just like that, or when she laces her fingers with Anika's right before they go to sleep.
Anika's certain she knows how Cookie feels about her when she kisses a set of scars on Anika's inner thigh, a reminder of her tumultuous teenage years. She believes she can't fall any harder for Cookie until she hears her whisper, "my baby's a survivor."
But just when she thinks the lines have been blurred into oblivion, those moments happen.
The moments where she isn't sure what she's doing with Cookie in the first place. When she so frustrated and so angry with Cookie and with herself at how they keep hurting each other. Because surely the lines haven't been blurred into oblivion when she's yelling "we're done!" and means it. And definitely not when she hears a glassy-eyed Cookie slam the door behind her as Anika leaves with the overnight bag she'd been so eager to pack that morning.
A warm tongue coaxes her out of painful memories and into the present where Cookie loves her again. She feels Cookie's mouth loving her in all of the right places until it becomes too much and she falls apart.
The lines blur with every kiss, every touch. Every time she receives a text and ends up being the big spoon because Cookie didn't want to fuck, she just wanted someone to hold her. And every time Cookie listens to her without judgement as she shares those bits and pieces that she keeps tucked away.
There should be a line drawn between fucking and making love and platonic and romantic relationships.
But it's in the blurred lines that they find their way back to each other. And Anika would be lying if she said Cookie wasn't her home.